Boomer was a bear cub puppy.
Irresistible. Round. Fluffy. Huggable.
After the deaths of my two previous cowdogs in a short span of time… he seemed a blessing.
Everyone enjoyed him. He was always a *happypuppy*.
He even used to help shuck corn!
Even the broken leg as a pup didn’t slow him down.
I then found how hard it is to take good pictures of black dogs!
Fast forward five years and here we are today. Lost. I’m just *sure* someone had to pick him up. He knows his way home from everywhere we go. Too many tourists on the road lately. Too many strangers to feel sorry for the little lost dog with the limp. I’ve called locally. I called Buffalo and Cody, Wyoming to check their humane societies. Buffalo’s was awesome… they run a tight ship over there! No one had seen him.
Today was election day and I printed off some fliers to post around town. Lots of people were going to be in Ten Sleep…
Then the phone rang.
“We have a black Aussie turned in… we thought he might be yours.”
<deep breath>
“Does he have a limp? Does he sit funny with his leg out straight?”
“Yeah… kinda.”
“Have you played STICK? Throw a stick for him… if that’s all he wants to do… that’s Boomer!”
“We haven’t tried that. He’s a very nice, happy dog. We’ve enjoyed having him here. Let me call you back… I’ll go outside and get a stick!”
Five minutes later my phone rang again.
She was laughing.
I recognized the reaction.
“I take it you threw a stick for Boomer?”
“I see what you mean” she laughed again.
“That’s Boomer! I’ll be over later this morning and get him!”
A BLM employee picked him up 6 miles south of Ten Sleep… heading south. She figured he was a ranch dog and probably bound for home, but he was trotting down the middle of the road… and veered into her… basically making her stop. She erred on the side of caution… and took him to town.
What hasn’t been answered is how he ended up 11 miles away where she picked him up. It really doesn’t matter… but my original theory still holds. Someone gave him a ride. He knew better. He ditched his ride and he was coming home…
He was SOOOO happy to see me… and we are relieved that this post celebrates his return… and not the end of a good dog’s life…
and everything is back to normal…
Meaning…
we’ve thrown a few sticks for him this afternoon.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And, yes, again.
And one more time.
I climbed in the big truck to accompany Vernon to the grain field. Guess who wouldn’t be left behind? NO WAY!
If he couldn’t be in front… he’d just stay in the shade and wait for us.
He’s at my feet right now.
Staying close.
Staying here.
So thanks for all your prayers and good wishes… Someone was listening… and did, indeed, watch over the little black Aussie.
My favorite photo of him doesn’t have to be a memorial photo after all! Not yet!
We do love you, Boomer.
Welcome home.
