Our old dog Finn (he’s 14 ½ and kind of blind and kind of deaf) doddered off on the night of April 6 (it was a dark and stormy night — it was raining cats and dogs) and didn’t come home. I traipsed through the Clover Lane neighborhood in the rain for a couple hours with flashlight and clicker calling and clicking for him. 

Then I called the police department and reported him missing just in case someone had picked him up. Next morning I put a Critter Line on KBBI, contacted the animal shelter and the vet, and then went driving around to see if I could spot him, checking yards and ditches. My husband said he probably went off to die because old dogs sometimes do that. Well, that was a bummer. 

Nineteen days later, early Saturday morning, Dr. Dots called and said “I think we’ve found Finny.” He’d been picked up on Sabrina by a woman driving home on Friday evening. Sabrina is less than a mile from Clover but if you’re going over hill and dale, gulley and swale, under and around brush and deadfalls and you’re less than 12 inches tall, it’s a marathon.

He was filthy and matted and had to be shaved to see if he had any cuts, bruises, etc. and he’d lost a lot of weight. When I went to the clinic to pick him up he looked like a Chihuahua with a furry head (he’s a West Highland White Terrier, also known as a Westie, and usually has a full coat of snowy white hair). He also had an infected eye — he’d had a big warty thing on his eyelid that we’d been watching and cleaning but had hesitated to get removed since he was so old.  Eighteen days in the wild didn’t do it any good. Dr. Dots said it had to come off so Monday morning he had surgery. He seems to be healing well but is not too fond of the e-collar he has to wear to prevent scratching. 

We have no idea where Finn was all that time. He obviously wasn’t being fed very much or very frequently since he lost 7-10 pounds, which is pretty significant when you’re less than 30 pounds to start with — lucky for him he went on his adventure a bit on the chubby side. We’re really surprised that something didn’t eat him — it’s a hungry time of year. I guess even though he’s old he’s still a feisty little terrier.

So thank you, kind lady, for finding our dog. He’s never wandered off before and we’re glad he didn’t end up some wild thing’s dinner. 

Patti, Brendan and Marc Boily