Copper: Day Nine

Yes, nine long days had passed.  It had been bitter cold that year and each night as I climbed into the warmth of my bed, I prayed that Copper was making it...that he was somewhere where he was safe and warm.  He wasn't though.  Copper was still nowhere to be found.  All the ACOs (Animal Control Officers) in the surrounding counties had not found him.  No one had picked him up.  He was not at any of the pounds.  DOT (Department of Transportation) had not found any dead dogs on the roadside fitting his description.

I was drinking my coffee, sitting in the recliner in our family room when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a blur pass the glass door.  It was him!  He was home!  I shouted to my husband, "he's home...it's Copper."  I couldn't get to the mudroom door to open the backdoor fast enough.  I opened the door and in he came.  His posture was not good.  He was almost cowering, tail between his legs.  To me, he looked mean.  That wasn't the tail wagging, happy-go-lucky, high spirited dog I lost.

It was not the same dog that vanished nine days earlier.  He was thin...painstakingly thin.  His ribs were showing and his hips looked so bony.  He had a mean look on his face.  As I leaned down to pet him, I saw fear in his eyes.  He didn't want me to touch his head  but I slowly stroked his back.  However, as I approached his back end, he turned his head, barred his teeth and snarled.  He was hurting physically and emotionally.  I told my husband to keep him in his crate for the day, after he had eaten and to keep Moon away from him.  I would take care of him when I got home from work that evening.

(to be continued)