I came home on Friday to discover the dogs had escaped the pen.
I took a lead with me and wandered down their usual route, calling for them. No response.
I gave up at 7pm, and even made a point of driving down to the neighbour's to see if they had turned up there. Nothing. I did however, find a dam, which I think is the one they usually go to.
By 10pm, wolfieboy goes outside to check some things as a storm is a-coming. And he discovers Ginger sitting on her bed.
But no Larry.
Larry never came home.
Usually when a dog goes, they come back within 24 hours of their own volition. That, or they get detained by a human, who will most likely contact me within 36 hours.
But it has now been 5 days, and I now fear the worst.
The neighbours have all been notified. Facebook posts put up. No word.
Neighbours on either side have also scoured their properties with no sign.
I took Ginger out on Sunday to let her try and sniff and perhaps show me where they went.
She took me to boundary fences.
In my current condition I'm in no state to be climbing fences.
Which leads us to a dead end.
What shocked me was how little time it took for her to reach the end of our boundary. Which makes me wonder how far they actually got. Who knows when they left. If they'd gone in the morning they could have gotten as far as the shoalhaven before coming back.
Or in Larry's case - he hasn't come back.
I keep on having this vision of him lying injured somewhere, holding onto life hoping that I will find him. Or perhaps already bled out and gone.
It hurts and it breaks my heart. He barely got any time with us. Barely 2 months. And he's already gone.
I feel so guilty. I let him down. I let his rescuers down. They found him, saved him from death row and transported him all the way to his foster carer. Then he came to us. And I let the team down. He's now out there with no one to care for him.
What possessed me that morning to decide not to tie them up? To trust them to their own devices? What was I thinking? Why wasn't I thinking?! If I had tied them up, then they'd still be here now.
I look at Ginger and my heart just breaks.
She knows something is wrong. Every time she sees one of us she just rolls over and shows us her stomach. She's sticking close.
Wolfieboy says she knows she broke the code and didn't bring him home.
I think perhaps they met with something and he didn't make it. So she said her goodbyes before coming home. But I would have liked to say my goodbyes too.
And apologise.
He was fitting in so well.
I have no words.
I am just broken.
I keep on expecting to see him. I drive home every day scouting the roads. But I know it's unrealistic to believe I could. The grass is high. The terrain is rocky and hilly. When he sleeps it's hard to spot him at the best of times. And if he's seriously injured... it makes it that much harder. On the hotter days I imagine he's panting from dehydration. I just have no idea.
And the silence is killing me.
But it also brings hope that perhaps he can come back. People tell me stories about dogs who come back 1 week, 2 weeks later. But to be honest, I don't believe it. If he was going to come home, he would have come home by now.
He is chipped and collared. There is no reason for a human not to find him and return him to me. But in the bush, the dangers are many and real. Wild pigs, foxes, wombats, kangaroos, snakes. It's all there.
This has been a bad year, dog wise.
I miss Larry every night as I sit in front of the television. He used to come up and put his head on my lap and stay there. I've never had such a snoopy puppy dog. Even Ginger gave up, and these days just curls up on her bed ignoring us.
Wolfiepup started asking this morning when Larry was coming home. My answer is I don't know...
I just don't think I can do this anymore.
