Saturday morning...

...and Savannah is still missing. I have walked up and down our road here, going all the way up to the main highway, calling Savannah's name and then listening for a bark in return. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. How does a 65-pound dog just disappear into thin air?

The first thing I saw this morning when I came into the kitchen and looked out the window was one of our friends from down the road... he was out walking along the road with his own dog. He has done this repeatedly since Savannah ran off after those blasted fireworks.  This friend is hoping that Savannah will respond to the scent of his dog or the jingling of his dog's ID tags and leash.

We had thunder and lightning and pouring rain last night. The sounds woke me up and all I could think of was Savannah being out there in such weather. The fact that Savannah bolted with her collar and ID tags on is reassuring, but she was also dragging her 20-foot leash, and that could be a disaster in the making if the leash has gotten caught up on something.

We live in a rural community.... homes on large properties with ponds and pastures and livestock and a Normal Rockwell-esque sense of peacefulness. But there are also deep woods with coyotes and snakes and bobcats and heaven only knows what else is out there that would render Savannah helpless. She was a frightened puppy when we got her, lacking in confidence and trust. During the seven months she was with us, Savannah learned how to trust and how to love, but the little frightened puppy always stayed at her core. Loud noises sent her running to her bed, and unfortunately, I was out walking her when the newest neighbor on our road decided to set off bomb-like firecrackers. Timing is everything: Savannah and I were right in front of their property on Wednesday night when the first 'bomb' went off.  Savannah bolted, I fell face-first into the road and blacked-out, and Savannah was nowhere in sight when I got back to the house.

Senseless. It was all so senseless. I have no respect left at the moment for those newest neighbors. They live on 18 acres, not on two thousand acres...... did they not realize that huge cannon-like fireworks going off on their field on a quiet Wednesday night in April would have no effect on anyone else in these hills?  When I was out walking along the road and looking for Savannah yesterday morning, that neighbor was driving by and she stopped to ask me if I'd found "the puppy."  I told her that no, we hadn't found her yet.  Her reply to me was "Well keep looking, dear."  I backed away from her car as if she had slapped me.  She may as well have... that's how much it hurt.

We are still looking. Still hoping. Still hanging up fliers and calling animal shelters and police stations in these little towns. 'Hope' is not an exact science, and sometimes hope can be misleading, but right now that's all we have.