The Return of Pete

I spent pretty much all day yesterday putting up posters and driving around town.
Except for an hour or so when I had to drive 20 miles to bail out Maria who locked her keys in the Subuaru at the new Super Wal-Mart.
Yesterday evening, Morgan came home with a kid who lives up the street who reported seeing Pete on the loose twice - once during the storm when he was streaking down the street in terror, illuminated by the lightning flashes as he flew over a fence, and again about noon yesterday when he ran flat-out into the side of the barn where they kid and his dad have a shirttail trucking business.
"He hit so hard, we thought he broke the particle board," the kid said. "At first, we thought a car had hit the building."
He said they thought they might have to take him to the vet, but he gathered himself up and tore off again.
That last sighting was less than a block from our back yard, but Pete was apparently too freaked out to navigate on home.
I slept on an airmattress on the dining room floor again last night, wanting to be able to respond if he banged on the back door.
I woke up a little after 4 a.m. and walked out onto the rear deck to call into the darkness for him, but there was no response.
Then I heard a faint yarking. It was the same sound Pete makes in the mornings when he wakes up in his kennel and wants to go outside.
I walked down the driveway a ways and determined it was coming from some distant point to the west.
I woke Maria and we dressed and headed out to follow the sound.
Walking through the darkened town, we tracked the sound - losing it occasionally when the dog fell silent or when it was obscured by the pre-dawn chirping of the birds roosting along the tree-lined streets.
Finally, some eight blocks away on the far west side of town, we found the source - a small dog chained to a mobile home. It was a huge disappointment and Maria, in particular, was bummed out. I promised her that we'd find Pete today, even though I had no idea how.
We walked home and went back to sleep - Maria upstairs in bed and me on a downstairs couch.
Morgan came down about 7:30 a.m., carried some trash to the curb for Friday morning pickup and then continued out for an early morning foot search.
At 7:46 a.m., we got a call from Andrea Smith, who works for our vet. She said she was driving to work just north of town when she recognized Pete in the road. She drives a big Ford SUV and, but the time she got turned around, he was gone. So she drove on to work and called us.
We grabbed a leash and bag of dog treats and flew out of the driveway, heading north. We spotted Morgan about a mile from home and picked her up, continuing toward the place where Andrea reported sighting Pete.
Cresting a hill, we saw him about a quarter-mile ahead standing in profile in the middle of the road. It was unmistakably Pete.
Not wanting to spook him, Maria and Morgan got out of the car with leash and treats and walked toward him, calling his name.
He regarded them warily and, when they got about 100 yards from him, he turned and started trotting away.
A driver who had pulled up behind me figured out what was going on and held back.
I pulled even with Maria and told her I was going to try to drive past Pete to box him in.
But as I approached in the Subaru with windows down, I started calling to him.
I don't know if it was the car or my voice or the scent of home, but Pete stopped in his tracks and then began running excitedly around the car.
I got out and scooped him up in my arms as Morgan and Maria ran to join the group doggy hug. All the while, Pete was licking my face and making little puppy noises of excitement. It was one of those moments where your heart melts in joy and gratitude and you feel like the weight of the world has suddenly been lifted from your shoulders.
We drove to the vet's office where we took Pete in and tried to get Andrea to accept a check for the $100 reward, but she graciously declined.
Pete was deliriously happy to get home and gorged himself on food and water while Ruthie looked on in disdain.
He's dozing under the kitchen computer table now, obviously worn out from his day and two nights of scary adventures.
He's got a slight limp and the pads on his feet are worn, but otherwise he seems OK.
Thanks to everyone for your kind supportive thoughts and prayers. It's great to have the prodigal son back home!