Harlow went missing Friday night.
Shannon and I were relaxing on my couch for a time when she asked “Where’s Harlow?”
I didn’t know, but figured she was outside in the yard doing whatever it is she does when she’s wandering around outside in the yard. I got up and called her. No Harlow. I walked through the whole house. She’s not inside. I went back outside and looked all over the backyard. No dog.
Where is my dog?
We put on our boots and I found her most annoying toy ever and took the the neighborhood, calling her and squeaking the toy. No luck. There was little we could do, really, because even if we spotted her, she wasn’t going to come to me unless she wanted to. And generally she didn’t want to.
We headed back tot he house, and I said, “well, let me open the gate so when she does come home she can come into the yard and back through the dog door.” I think we were planning on getting in the car or something. I don’t remember. I just know I was thinking I was screwed because it appeared that she’d figured out how to hop the fence entirely. How would I deal with that?
But I heard scratching on the second basement door which opens out into the yard, and that’s when, in a flash, I realized what happened. About a half hour before I had absent-mindedly shut the inside basement door off the kitchen not realizing that Harlow had slipped down there to explore at some point.
What was a relief!