DECEMBER 21 — A week ago, my dog disappeared.

I searched my neighbourhood. Canvassed nearby vets. No dog.

"Have you seen a little terrier/dachshund? He’s got a crooked jaw, looks like this and really likes cars?” Alas, inquiries provided no leads.

 What I did next was to try social media.

First I tweeted. Then I put up a Facebook post with my contact details and of course, photos of my dog. 

My friends were super supportive — so many of them sharing the Facebook post and even messaging me just to ask how I was and how the search was going. It was super humbling and I will always be grateful.

Besides my FB journo page and my own personal page, I also shared it on a few other FB pages including Trap - Neuter - Release Malaysia (TNRM) and Malaysia Independent Animal Rescue (MIAR).

What I did beforehand was to message the admins of the respective pages asking if they could share my lost dog post. 

TNRM and MIAR were the most gracious, responding with an immediate yes to sharing my post. One other page instead told me to directly post it on their page.

My missing dog post probably got more Facebook engagement than 80 per cent of my columns.

The problem with the latter’s approach is that visitors to a FB page will take a post not directly endorsed by the page less seriously. I myself tend to scroll past posts made by visitors to a page as a lot of them tend to be spam or self-endorsements.

After that, there was nothing to do but wait. People kept asking if I had tried looking around my neighbourhood again but I told them I knew my dog. Dag was many things — incorrigible treat beggar, talented escape artist, tolerator of cats and local ambassador to other stray dogs  — but he was not the type never to come home.

"If he could come home, he would. He always comes home.” I told people that over and over again. 

Just when I’d lost hope of hearing about Dag anytime soon, a friend messaged me on Facebook saying that she saw a dog on Facebook that she had "a strong gut feeling” was him.

I clicked the link she gave me and there was my very scruffy mutt. Immediately I got into contact with the very kind woman who had taken him in and off I went, with a friend in tow to reclaim him.

His rescuer (who I’ll call M) had a very funny story to tell. It seemed she had been feeding the stray cats near her apartment when she saw them hissing at something.

Dag emerged and immediately tried to make friends. She tried shooing him away as she needed to get to work. Well, she didn’t count on the little dog’s stubbornness. And did I mention he really likes cars? 

The little scamp pulled this trick he always does even with my friends. As soon as she opened the car door, he wiggled his way in right onto her driver’s seat. M was now stuck with him.

 

 

M relented and just let him join her on the ride: she dropped him off at the nearest vet, who looked after him while she was busy at work.

While I was looking for him, she had been making the rounds of her own neighbourhood, asking around for the owner of this strange, stubborn little dog.

How was she to know that his owner was nearly 30 minutes’ drive away?

M is probably one of the kindest women you’ll ever meet. Dag turned up his nose at dry and wet food, so she cooked for him. I swear my dog wasn’t lost, he was just having a staycation with his own personal chef.

She even named him Vincent. No, she wasn’t planning to keep him but I guess she didn’t want to just call him dog all the time. Of course, the irony would be that his name is pretty much a play on the word "dog.”

So how did Dag end up all the way in the remotest part of Kota Damansara, when I lived in Petaling Jaya, near the LDP highway? He couldn’t possibly have gotten there himself — I’m pretty sure someone had brought, and likely dumped, him there.

What is most important is Dag is home, terrorising the cats, enjoying the company of my housemate’s dog and begging for treats as usual. 

Yes, it was my dog in his smiley, scruffy glory. The happiest-looking dog I know.

What I will do from now on is try harder to keep him from making merry rounds of the neighbourhood (I almost named him Houdini at one point) and I’m looking at micro-chipping him as he’s become quite expert at losing his collars. And squeezing through the grill. And the fence. And persuading the other dog to rip off the netting and barriers on the fence.

If you have lost your pet, as many of my friends said to me, I will say to you: don’t give up. Keep pushing. Keep hoping. This is also when all your photos of your pet will be handy. Cute pet photos are sure sympathy wringers.

Do also support the endeavours of people such as TNRM and MIAR. Without TNRM and helpful friends, my dog would probably have ended up fostered elsewhere.

Thank God for kind people and the magic of the Internet. In the meantime, I’ll be petting my dog and as usual, trying to get him away from the cats’ food.

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.