Lost

Our remaining beloved beagle, Spridle, escaped from the house last night.

It was bound to happen. We have finicky doors, and the kids had been running in and out all afternoon yesterday...celebrating the cooler temps by playing on the playground. We found the back door ajar. We couldn't have set it up any better for our precious dog who loves to wander.

By the time I realized he was gone, the darkness was settling upon our neighborhood...which doesn't have any street lamps. Animesh drove up and down almost every street around here...yelling Spridle's name and shaking the treat bag...to no avail.

Neither of us slept well. I was consumed with guilt...and wondering if Spridle was thirsty, sleepy, hungry, safe from the wildlife. Animesh was up late posting signs at the mailbox. We emailed our "lost pet" coordinator in the neighborhood--a necessary person given the hundreds of acres that compose our subdivision--so we hope and pray the word is out.

I hopped out of bed early this morning...praying that I would find Spridle curled up on our patio somewhere...begging to be fed. He loves to eat.

Eerily enough, it will be 6 months tomorrow that we said good-bye to our little Kirby. I'm not ready to say good-bye to Spridle, too. He is our first-born. We got him a month after we married when we first moved to Ohio. He's been such a gentle companion for our children. He tolerated Kirby with kindness.

Please come home, Spridle. Please.