It’s a funny thing about Chicago, we all live so close to one another and yet we don’t always meet.
This morning our dog escaped—again. Yep, he’s a Runner (which must be why we found him at the Anti-Cruelty Society in the first place).
At 6:50am we discovered he was gone from the backyard. My husband ran out to look for the dog, while the girls got ready for school in about 3½ minutes. Then we all drove up and down the streets until it was time for the school bus to arrive. I put $1.85 in my daughters’ hands so they could buy the dreaded hot lunch, and I sent them, miserably, off to school. Our plan was to put up “Missing Dog” flyers this afternoon.
By 8am I was home calling the city’s Animal Care & Control service. Viewing hours are from 12pm-7pm. I called the Anti-Cruelty Society, but they didn’t open until 9am.
So I waited for a phone call or a familiar bark or for my dog to find his way back to our door. I opened my front shades to look out at the street, imagining my dog could be miles away. Or worse.
At 9am on the dot I called the Anti-Cruelty Society and added my cell phone number to our file.
At 9:15 an elderly lady called me. She had my dog and she lived in the neighborhood—two blocks away. She told me how she found our dog and how she, too, was waiting for the Anti-Cruelty Society to open at 9am. And she walked the dog over as soon as we hung up. I met her halfway down the street. She’s a great person—responsible, kind, and helpful—someone you’d want living around the corner.
It seemed appropriate to hug my new neighbor, whom I had never met before this morning, even though both of us have lived here for many, many years. I look forward to seeing her soon, under different circumstances.