A couple of Sunday nights ago, I took our dog Alfie for his late-night walk around the village.
A man in a van pulled up alongside to ask if I’d seen a loose dog that had gone on the run from home.
I told him I’d keep a lookout and he drove off. It was a wet and miserable night and I really felt for him as the tail lights of his van disappeared into the darkness of a very muddy country lane.
Sadly I saw neither hide nor hair of said dog and made my way home.
Two days later, during a period of illness, Ros and I walked to the village post office. It was then we noticed a sign on the village green asking people to look out for a lost dog.
It was the same dog that had gone missing the previous Sunday night. We both commiserated with this obviously distraught keeper and also the dog that had been missing for three cold winter nights. Then, as we turned round to walk away there, standing staring at us, less than a dozen feet away, was a lone dog that fitted the poster description perfectly: a lovely brown yet somewhat bewildered and timid Hungarian Vizsla.
No, I’d never heard of one before either, but I can confirm they are a stunning looking creature. So began a process of recovery that can best be bizarrely described as akin to herding cats. We began slowly walking towards the dog, guiding him as best as our flailing arms could achieve towards an area of the village nearest his home.
Others began to join in, until eventually there must have been eight or ten trainee Hungarian Vizsla herders all working to the same end.
Within an hour Busby was safely home, and is no doubt tucked up in bed and dreaming of his grand adventure.
Well done Joan for getting the lead on and to Kat for supplying Busby’s temporary accommodation.