Fliers featuring our dog, Casey, were hung up all over our neighborhood. My husband, Al, and I had contacted all the shelters and put up posters at the veterinary clinics. Still, we hadn’t found our poodle.
Casey was skittish. We’d only had him a few days before he slipped under the fence. I knew he’d be hesitant about letting a stranger help him. Sure enough, Al took a call about Casey. “A lady spotted him, but he ran away.”
We got more phone calls over the next few days from people with similar stories. Again one rainy afternoon, Al and I drove up and down the streets looking. Lord, please help us find Casey.
The next day we got the call we’d been praying for. A vet’s office had Casey! We rushed over. Casey was a bit scratched up, but when he saw us, his tail wagged like crazy.
“Who rescued Casey?” we wanted to know. It turns out that a brother and sister were taking their own dog for a walk when he became agitated. He pulled them to a nearby house, where he sniffed under a porch chair.
There was Casey, lost and scared, but too weak to run. The kids brought him home, where a friend recognized the little lost dog from our posters.
When people failed to bring Casey home, God put a doggie detective on the job.
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