Bonds of Love | bark

One can never underestimate the bonds of love and connection between human beings and their animal companions, especially when they part ways unexpectedly.

Such is the case when I put my German Shepherds, Sasha and Bear, in the fenced yard and forgot to lock the door latch. An hour later, I noticed the door was open. They were gone. My heart sank with fear and concern for them.

The dogs had been out before but had never been gone for long – this time would be different. We now live in southern Indiana on Lake Patoka. Indiana’s second largest lake with 26,000 acres of water spanning three different counties in the middle of the Hoosier National Forest which is 317 square miles encompassing 204,000 acres of wilderness. These dogs could be anywhere.

I started shouting, “Sasha, Bear-Bear, come on,” and when they didn’t come running, the terrible feelings grew. Quickly I ran into the house and let my wife Brandy know they were out. She ran outside, calling their names as I grabbed my truck keys and rushed to find them.

After several hours of research, we involved neighbors, friends and even strangers in the search. We created flyers to display at local businesses in the area, shared on Facebook groups offering a reward, and contacted local police departments, animal control, and the humane society. There was now a full APB for these two runaway dogs.

As the day progressed and the sun began to set, Brandy and I fell into a depressive sleep realizing that our babies would not be home with us for the first time in their lives. Brandy and I held hands, cried and prayed for their safe return.

German Shepherds are loyal to a fault. They become your companion, your shadow, your emotional support and love you unconditionally, and when they suddenly and unexpectedly disappear… It’s like losing a close friend or family member. But we had hope.

On that sad December night, the day after Christmas, we found ourselves with a feeling of lonely emptiness and worries about how our pets would survive alone in the desert.

Would they be hit by a car? Would they be shot by a farmer?

Hurt by wild animals? What if someone finds them and tries to keep them?

We opened the door to the screened porch and turned on the Ring camera. We lay in bed holding hands, staring at the phone screen in hopes that Sasha and Bear would appear begging to come inside for a chest pet and a treat. At some point, we all fell asleep.

Brandy was due in the hospital at 7:15 a.m. for outpatient surgery the next morning. Upon waking up at 5am to my alarm, I immediately went to the back door to check in hopes that our furry companions had made it home, but was disappointed.

We moved through the motions of our morning routine in silence, each trying to process our feelings of loss as we prepared for the hour-long drive to the hospital. Brandy was out to start the SUV so it could warm up when she felt something touch the back of her leg. She turned to find Sasha, and she immediately leaned down to give her the love. At that moment, she realized that Bear was not with her.

Brandy called him louder and louder, but he was nowhere to be found. What had been overwhelming happiness now turned into a feeling of sinking at the realization that they had separated. These two dogs were always together. Both had been lost 9 p.m. by the time Sasha returned.

Brandy entered through the back door. I heard him say in a torn tone: “Only one has returned! As I walked towards her, I asked, “Which one?”

She replied, “Sasha.”

My feelings were torn. I was glad Sasha was back – but Bear is my dog ​​- I love him and he was always missing. I leaned over and gave Sasha a hug and some pets. She moaned and cried as if to say that she missed us too.

After she came back from surgery, Brandy suggested that I take Sasha for a walk to see if she would drive me to point out where she and Bear had been the night before. I took Sasha to the yard, but she seemed afraid to be away from Brandy, so I went home. A few minutes later, Brandy took Sasha outside, told her to get Bear, and I joined them. Sasha led us into a large overgrown field and started sniffing like she knew exactly where to go, so we followed.

I knew Brandy was only hours away from surgery, so I suggested she come back while I continued to research with Sasha. As Brandy walked away, Sasha stopped and turned to tend to her human. I released her leash and she went straight to Brandy. It was clear that she had already spent too much time not being by Brandy’s side and that she was not willing to make an exception.

As we were walking home, one of the neighbors shouted as he walked towards us and asked if we had found our dogs. I explained that we were still looking for Bear and pointed to the field Sasha had led us to and asked him if he knew what was on the other side. The neighbor replied that an RV, cabins and a few houses were on the road near the creek and boat launch.

We got home, and I got in the truck and headed that way alone, hopeful. I had already searched the area several times over the past 36 hours to no avail. But I didn’t want to give up on finding Bear.

I drove slowly, looking in every yard, calling Bear through the window. I unenthusiastically decided to check near the boat ramp and started to circle the parking lot loop one last time. The place was deserted in the middle of winter, and I rolled down all my windows shouting “Bear-Bear” as loudly as possible in all directions.

Just as I was about to stop, I heard barking in the distance across the vast lake.

I wondered, do you hear things? I again shouted “Bear-Bear” and again heard a dog barking as if answering my call. I rolled towards the sound. I heard more barking and before I knew it I was out of the truck standing on the shore of the lake screaming for my pup. Every time I called, several barks answered.

I didn’t see anything though. On the other side of the lake, I looked at a large finger of land with a huge hill covered in rocks and trees and listened to a bark. Suddenly, running down the steep hill, Bear-Bear barked all the way! Tears filled my eyes as we each stood on either side of the lake, looking at each other. It was the most incredible experience of my 54 years of life. To have such a connection that against all odds, we would find each other.

Quickly, I called excited and crying Brandy to give her an update. I had found it, but I needed to find a way to reach it because the water was too cold to cross, and Bear doesn’t like swimming anyway. At that point I realized he and Sasha were probably out there together and when she saw the boat launch she probably swam out. She loves water. Bear, on the other hand, doesn’t care about being there at all, so he’s been stuck there alone like Gilligan, unsure of his location.

As I considered the situation, I decided to walk along the shore on my side of the lake and have Bear follow his side until we both got to the creek. As I started the walk, I yelled for Bear-Bear to come over and pointed in the direction I was heading. He started walking in the same direction. As we walked, I saw him moving slowly, hobbling. He was injured.

We walked along the lake facing each other while I talked to her the whole way, encouraging her. I lost sight of him a few times and was worried until I found him. After what seemed like an eternity, I could see the water ending where Bear and I could meet. We both picked up our pace until we were running towards each other as if in unison.

I shouted “Come on, boy”, laughing and crying as he approached me.

He ran towards me moaning, wet and muddy, tail wagging. I kissed him.

After we got together, we started to retrace my steps back up the boat ramp to the truck, but we did it together. Sometimes it seemed like Bear was in a rush to get back to the comforts of his home. Whenever I felt he was too far ahead, I would just shout his name and he would come back like old times to my side. As I dried him off in the truck, he was crying with joy.

At home, Bear and Sasha were delighted to see each other again. Bear took a hot bath, dried off and lay down in his favorite spot next to my bed. I looked, and Sasha was also in her favorite spot. We are all happy to have them at home, where they belong.