I had moved into a 'new' rental home - nice big yard front and back (fenced). The house sat near the end of a culdesac, but the street was directly off a very busy main route. I had reservations about the location - but the culdesac street was mainly retired people, at home during the day, and very dog friendly - fenced back yards for all of the houses. My roomate and I secured the services of JC - the neighborhood lawn man. I introduced JC to the boys - Tucker and Bogey - showed him how to close of the dog door when he came to do the yard. He seemed very attentive to the dogs and I felt I could trust him, after all he also did many of my neighbors lawns. Well - you guessed it - I come home from work - it's dark - JC has done the yard - Tucker comes to greet me - no Bogart - I call frantically - No Bogart - I run up and down the street in my work clothes - asking neighbors if they have seen one of my dogs - Nope - My heart is racing - My silk shirt is wet - and I can't make any time running in these darn heels - I run back in the house - Call my roomate at work to create an initial flyer without picture - to bring home - I slip off my heels and on with the tennies - grab the keys and get in the car - go to the busy street - dreading what I might find - cursing myself for living close to a busy street - and uncontrollably crying and driving -good thing it wasn't uncontrollable drivin' and cryin for you heavy metal fans :^) - finally give up and go back home - call all around the house again for the Bogart - my heart has fallen - my energy is gone and I am hoping beyond hope that someone has picked him up. I decide to finally change clothes - my roomate should be home any minute - we'll get the flyers out tonight - I'll do picture ones in the morning - and I open my closet door - and there's the little beast - so happy to see me - as if to say - Jeez Mom - what's wrong? - I sink down and cry for 30 minutes hugging him so tight- and trying to figure out why he didn't *tell* me he was locked in the closet - What a time for him not to be a yapper...

Story by: Morgan Allen