Tonight I pulled up to the gates (we have a double gate system across the driveway). As usual the main yard dogs all charged the gate to say hello. They've been alone for at least 3 hours which apparently is the same as eternity to them! I immediately notice that Preacher is not outside and not BAH-Woooing at me. No worries, Stuart must have been home and left Preacher in the house. But then I notice that there is no red cable hanging off his line. Preacher is blind and when he's in the yard he's tied on a trolley style line so he can't wander too far. Ok, getting worried, but maybe Stuart took it down for some reason--had to drive the wood truck through there, maybe.
Leave groceries in the truck, run to the house, look in all Preacher's sleeping spots, NO PREACHER. He is NOT in the house. Back outside, begining to shake now. Still yelling his name as loud as I can. No Preacher. Starting to cry now and on the verge of a full freak out.
We have two large holes in the yard. One that will soon be an in-ground freezer for dog food. It's way off to the left side of the yard. It's narrow and deep. Trying not to panic, I run over there. Thank God--No Preacher in there. I have had the horrific experience of finding one of my cats dead in the yard. I do not ever want to find another broken body. Sobbing now. Preacher is old, blind, hypothyroid. I know he's not in great shape and that his time may be growing short, but he's been stable for months. No health crisis. I can accept Preacher dying, but not like this. Not alone in some stupid accident.
The other hole is huge. Stuart said he wanted to dig a pond. He dug a small lake. Seriously next summer it will be stocked with trout! No water in it right now. Preacher's best friend, Franklin, kept running that direction and I knew I had to check. That was the longest walk I have taken in my life. Then as I passed the woodshed I heard a great big BAH-WOOOOOOOOOO. Oh, thank God, again. If he's fallen, he's still alive and able to woo, but I still couldn't see him.
Got to the edge of the pond hole. No Preacher in there. Dang near fainted with relief. Then I looked to the far side. There was Preacher, about 3 feet from the edge, red cable tangled around a couple trees keeping him from moving. I have never been so glad to see a dog tangled up in my life! Any more length and he could have gone over the edge and hung himself. But he was safe, in one piece, not a mark on him, but shaking almost as much as I was!
Preacher is now safely back in the house, on his bed, chewing on a treat. He has been hugged, kissed, and cuddled to bits. A new clip has been put on his cable. I need a drink!
My old sweetie enjoying a bone last weekend.