Day Two.

The house is as quiet as a church, as quiet as death. Not that our house was noisy, but Savannah added a much-needed boost of life to this old house.

Everyone around here spent most or nearly all of the day looking for Savannah... riding up and down the road, handing out fliers, telling neighbors or calling neighbors... you name it, it was done today. Fliers are in everyone's mailbox and more have been printed up to bring to the local vet's offices and the little convenience stores attached to gas stations. That will be tomorrow's job.

Neighbors have checked the creeks and the properties around the hills here. Open barns and sheds have been inspected... not a sign of Savannah anywhere. One neighbor told me that her sister's dog hid for four days and then came out of her hiding spot on the fifth day. I hope Savannah knows that rule. Better yet, I wish she'd just come out. Like now.

The across-the-road neighbor stopped by to ask if we'd found Savannah yet. (As if it's a given that we will find her?)  This is the neighbor whose son set off those earth-shattering fireworks in the first place. My friend told me that it may not even be legal to shoot off fireworks at the end of April... firework day being July 4th. There's no sense in bringing up that little fact to the neighbor or her son. What's done is done, and what has been done was so senseless.  I found it hard to even look at that neighbor this afternoon. I hate to be so 'ugly' about this, but our dog is missing because of their careless and thoughtless firework display on a plain old Wednesday night in late April. Seriously... who does something so stupid?!

Upon closer inspection of my bruises this afternoon, both of my knees are swollen, with the right knee turning a lovely shade of purple and the left knee becoming bright pink. The palms of my hands are cut-up and swollen and I know it would be hard to grip a steering wheel so I didn't drive anywhere today. My right wrist is purple and swollen, and I also have a strawberry-ish shaped bruise on the inside of my right arm. My chin has a very nice pattern of cuts and scrapes, and if you connect the cuts of my chin, the resulting picture may be identical to one of the constellations in the midnight sky that I'm not seeing right now because Savannah is not here to be walked after dark.

I keep thinking of Savannah and wondering where she is sleeping, and is it protected from coyotes and snakes? Does she know enough to stay away from snakes and scorpions? Truth be told, I wish she'd know enough to just come home. I left the outside lights on last night and tonight, hoping that she will recognize the distinct outline of our house and the porch and just come home. Please just come home.

When friend C and I were driving around the roads here looking for Savannah, I was amazed at all the barbed wire fencing. I know that the barbed wire has its purpose, but the people here who have property to protect--- shouldn't they be afraid of the injuries that sort of fencing can impose on wildlife, livestock, and their own pets?

I am grateful for all the help from our neighbors and friends. No one hesitated to get out there and just look, look, and look some more, as if Savannah belonged not just to me and Gary, but to all of us.

The nights when Savannah would wake me up at three o'clock because a raccoon dared to come up on the porch... I used to get so mad with her for interrupting my sleep. Now I'd give anything just to hear her barking. I just need to know where she is. This not knowing is killing me, just killing me.

I cannot believe that I lost my dog... that Savannah got away from me because of those stupid fireworks... that right now on my fridge there is a flier saying 'Lost Dog' with Savannah's picture on it. Give me a blessed break.