If this had been a real emergency
Several weeks ago, son #3 and dog #1 (they’re both unique individuals, but the canine member is the sole representative of the species in our household, so perhaps the numbering isn’t necessary) went for a run on the beach. At sunset. Think of a beautiful scene from a movie, except that the accumulation of wrackweed doesn’t photograph well. Enough artsiness… the dog and the boy had a good time, there was no intervention by the coast guard cutter and they came back before moonrise.
Minus the collar. The important one, with many tags and other identifying marks, that had the magical ability to detach with a simple pawstroke. Our dog was now anonymous. We didn’t notice right away, as the dog didn’t say a word, but soon we were down on the beach with flashlights, up and down among the stranded jellyfish and remnants of lobster traps. Nothing. The same scene was repeated the next morning, although our flashlights were probably superfluous to the communal effort. A symbolic effort, as the tide had come and gone and come again. A dog without identity. No way to get home, should she also stray. Forget Walter D.s warped version of such things.
Town is never far away, and with all the angst that comes from having to place a blue collar (the colour, not the job category) on a “girl dog” because it was that or dark pink, and I drew a line in the sand (virtual; we were an hour away from the beach). Blue it shall be, says I with as much authority as I can muster, surrounded by bags of chewy bits and goldfish. We also purchased a new tag with a phone number, even though the dog has never shown any interest in using the telephone. Maybe when she’s older.
Yesterday, the collar came home. A mother and daughter team had found it on the beach stairs and brought it back to their camper. Hopeful that it would fit their teeny-tiny Schnauzer. Around its midriff, perhaps. Noting the collection of charms, the name of our town caught their eye. Just down the riverbank from theirs. In kindness, they brought the dogless collar back home and went through the channels to get in contact with us. Last evening, my spouse and son #3 (still part of the story) drove for an hour plus and retrieved the lost halter.
I guess this is a “test”. Something along the lines of “if this had been a real emergency, the identification details might have brought your animal back home”. If she didn’t bite the lucky finder, or have a Schnauzer sausage for supper.
