At least once or twice a year, I find myself playing amateur detective when I come across a dog that has Houdini’d its way out of the house. Thankfully, I have a knack for figuring out where these escape artists live—either by leashing them and letting them lead me home like a four-legged GPS or by asking passersby if they recognize the furry fugitive.
Most of the time, the owners never even know their little explorer took an unauthorized field trip. I’ll just herd them back through an open gate and close it tight. Sometimes, I find a front door flung wide open, shuffle Fido back inside like a personal valet at a doggy nightclub, and shut the door. And no one knows because I leave like a pet-sitting Ninja.
I just want to make sure these lost hounds are found before they end up on a "missing" poster. I'd like to think of myself as the Gabi Moseley for dogs. Only I don't have an evil dog locked up in my basement to help me solve cases.
