OMG it has been quite the first evening home with the new dog, Vimes (named for Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch). He was fitting in so well and seemed so happy. He took some treats and had limited, but friendly interaction with the pets already in residence. He bustled around the house, sniffing all the new smells and exploring. We took a bunch of pictures and sent them to friends' cell phones. All seemed like it was going extremely well, so much so that Alan said if things continued smoothly, we could keep him for good instead of fostering him and looking for a home.

Then disaster of cosmic proportions struck. As Alan was coming in with a tray of cooked meat from grilling dinner, Vimes BOLTED! I rushed outside with beef jerky treats but, while tempted, he wouldn't come near enough for us to nab him. He'd come close to eat treats I tossed toward him in an attempt to lure him closer, but ultimately not close enough. We chased him around our backyard for a while but he eluded us. Then the next-door neighbors' pit bulls started barking, he got scared and ran as fast as lightning! He flew to the next subdivision over. I was heartbroken.

Alan took off on foot but he was running so fast! I went back for my car and drove through the neighborhood. We saw him several times and he'd come get treats but streak away if we got too close. We stopped at several houses to explain why we were trespassing through people's back yards and as we saw people getting home from work to say he wasn't a stray, was loved and wanted but skittish. I was horrified; he had no collar or tags yet, though he did have a microchip, but he hadn't yet learned his name or formed any trust for us. It was appallingly upsetting; I kept thinking that I'd saved him from euthanasia only so he could be hit by a car (he was not afraid to run across streets) or get killed by a larger dog when he invaded its space.

We circled through the subdivision again and again, losing sight of him, spotting him, calling him and pleading with him to come to us. The Pit Bull Neighbors came out in full force when I told them the story. At one point they found him actually in their garage and tried to lower the door to trap him, but the noise spooked him so off he went. It was nice in a way, even though I was terrified, the way everyone joined in the hunt and effort. People were calling our cell phones or driving down the street to get Alan, to say he'd been spotted here or there and they'd drive him closer to the last sighting.

Finally, when I'd given up hope and left a message with Animal Control with his description, microchip number, our name, address and phone numbers, Alan and the Pit Bull Neighbors (three very young and muscle-y guys who could run fast, which came in handy) nabbed him! They corralled him in a neighbor's fenced corner and between the four of them, cut off all avenues of escape. Vimes is back home because our neighbors, who we barely know, wouldn't give up the hunt.

I'm worn out. I've been from ecstasy (Alan says we can keep him) to agony (he's gonna get hit by a car or eaten by another dog thanks to me) to exhausted ecstasy again. For hours, I ran all over the neighborhood without shoes on, clad in Led Zeppelin boxer shorts, because I'd left the house in such a hurry. The redneckery, I has it.

But we got our dog back and he seems happy about it: