WARNING: THIS POST IS NOT ABOUT FOOD.
Saint Francis of Assisi is the Catholic patron saint of animals.
There’s been something on my mind since my return from the Food & Wine Blogger Indaba; something that had me too heartsore to blog about.
My husband walks our dogs early on Sunday mornings, on the sports fields of Pirates, a local club. He goes as early as possible; our Lulubelle is intimidating to most humans and at this venue she can run free and wild without scaring anyone. She and Diski chase each other around, while Fat Fritzl is happy to trot by Old Spouse’s side, sniffing and lifting his leg frequently as they circle the field.
Two Sundays back, while I was in Cape Town, during their customary ramble, a flock of marathon runners came past and startled Fritzl. He took off like a bullet and couldn’t be found. Old Spouse searched the streets for hours, until darkness made him give up.
On my return to Johannesburg, I circulated posters to all the businesses, schools and veterinary practices in the area and beyond. And we waited, hopefully, with frequent prayers to Saint Frank.
Last night, exhausted and about to tuck in for the night, I checked my email inbox one last time. One unfamiliar name stood out and I clicked to open the mail:
I’ve tried calling your phone a number of times, but it seems to be off. So I thought I’d try emailing as well in the hope that this will get through to you.
We found your dog while walking our dogs at Pirates and brought it home with us. The bartenders at Pirates gave us the email you circulated. We have another dog and a chicken (who Fritzl nearly killed!) so we can’t really look after him for too long.
Hoping you will get this and get in touch. Our address is xxx.
He’s back home, tail wagging at a speed that makes us fear it may fall off.