Poor Herb. He deserves better. He’s our first baby after all. We adopted him from the greyhound rescue in Salisbury, MA at 4-years old, and he’s the most sweet-natured, gentle animal we’ve ever known.
Last week we were reminded just how dear Herb is to our family. During a 2 am downpour, Herby stuck his nose in Ted’s face to be let out. A half hour later, Ted shook me awake — Herby had not returned and it was starting to storm. I was concerned, but sure Herby would come to the door as soon as I called him.
The rain fell harder and lightning cracked in the sky. As time passed, I began to fear he was hurt or sick. Herby never travels farther than our neighbor’s yard.
Ted phoned the police and searched the neighborhood by car, while I continued to call out into the night. Two hours later, we made the difficult decision to stop our search until morning, leaving the garage door open in hopes that Herby would find his way home
At 6 a.m., Ted was already outside combing the woods. The kids weren’t awake yet and I wondered what I would tell Lauren. I said a prayer to Saint Anthony — the patron saint of lost things — and swore I heard the jingle of Herby’s collar outside. I ran to the window, only to find Ted pushing back layers of ferns with a rake.
A knock at the front door pulled me away from my thoughts. A woman introduced herself as Diane and asked if I’d lost a dog. I paused, preparing for bad news. “He’s in my car,” she said and I lost all composure. In my T-shirt and pj bottoms, hair wild from sleep, I sobbed as I followed Diane to her Volvo. And there was Herby in the back — wet and panting, but looking relatively unscathed after such a long night.
She found him three miles away, walking down the middle of Princes Point Road, heading toward busy Rte. 88. I hugged her. It didn’t matter that Diane was a perfect stranger — I was so relieved. I asked for her full name and address, so I could send her a proper thank you, but she said there was no need, she’d see me around town.
So Diane on Princes Point Road, thank you again for bringing Herby home. We’ll pet him a little longer, hug him a little tighter and remember how important he is to our family, all because of you.
Jennifer Hazard lives and writes in Yarmouth.