Roots and Branches: The return of Dozer

Our daughter-in-law Cara brought a Shitzu Lhasa Apso mix into the family this spring as a way of brightening the spirit and easing the sense of loss her children, our grandchildren, were experiencing. This has been a year of loss on many levels, but for the younger grandchildren this was the first time they were experiencing the death of someone who had been an integral part of their lives since birth, their “Uncle Tom.” He was an iconic uncle who passed by their home each day with a wave and a smile. He was at every family celebration, and with a large extended family, there were many birthdays and holidays to celebrate. After his death this past December, his absence continued to be felt. Sporadic feelings of melancholy would waft through laughter filled celebrations, leaving an intangible sense of loss in the younger children’s hearts that was difficult to explain.

Enter Dozer, first given that moniker for the habitual sleeping habits of a young pup. As he has grown, his name has become even more apropos given his sturdy stature and bull dozing capacity to push through any barrier. Dozer became a cheerful member of the family with his effervescent demeanor and insatiable appetite for fun. The grandchildren seldom dropped by without Dozer in their arms, laughing and sharing his newest antics, tossing squeaky toys about the room with acrobatic abandon.

There was nothing extraordinary about the afternoon of Tuesday, Sept. 6. Parents were returning home from work, children from school. The twins and Cooper scrambled through the front door at Grandma and Grandpa’s house excited to share stories about the first few days of school. Their mom and I were visiting at the kitchen counter, catching up on the day’s activities and planning dinner when her cell phone rang. The look on her face and anxiety in her voice signaled something not quite right. She dashed out to the car shouting over her shoulder she would be right back, a prediction that would not play out for two long nights and three exhausting days.

The call had come from neighbors on Willow Flat who had just passed the grandkids’ house and spotted Dozer on the road, a place he had never been seen before unless on the end of a leash with a child in tow. Thankfully the neighbor stopped and ushered Dozer back to the yard to await his retrieval.

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If all ended then and there I would have had little to write about. A simple thank you to Trudi Klantchnek for returning the pup to the yard would have sufficed. But Dozer was determined not to be contained and managed to bolt away with adults in hot pursuit. He headed over the hillside into the dangerous underbrush, where coyotes and an occasional cougar often lay in wait for foolish prey to pass their lair. Dozer was neither a street savvy pup nor an experienced outdoor adventurer. Rather he was an innocent canine who thought food came from a bag and water miraculously filled his bowl after a good lapping.

We would have to call in the troops to find him before he became an evening appetizer for one of the wild animals who frequented the woods surrounding the orchard. We walked up and down the orchard rows, along the perimeter of the neighbors’ orchards and the underbrush, even venturing into the dense blackberry and poison oak bushes. No trace. By nightfall, we all began to worry but tried to ease the children’s anxiety so they could sleep. We would begin again when the kids were off to school the next morning while still hoping he might find his way home during the night. Postings, pictures and pleas were made on Facebook and dog shelter websites. If someone should find him, the chip would alert them to his rightful owners. The word went out creating an immediate response from a cadre of folks on the lookout for Dozer.

Neighbors reported they had seen him in the early morning hours but were unable to get him to come to them. At least we knew he had survived the night. We started early, walking the orchard rows, talking to workers who were picking pears all along Willow Flat. Those little legs couldn’t have taken him very far. It was comforting when those we encountered would say, “We are watching for Dozer. We want to get him back for the little kids.” They had already been told by their foremen to watch out for the fluffy little escapee. But when the grandkids were tucked in for the second night, they had to be told he was still out in the darkness alone.

Day three started with a promising siting by Craig Mallon, who had seen a little pup running across the road from Nakamura’s towards the east. He was unable to catch him but once again he was pretty sure it was Dozer. Kelly Hughes joined us on the orchard trek and spoke of enlisting her horseback cavalry in the afternoon if the morning search was unsuccessful. We all believed that the many tractors, trucks and four wheelers in the surrounding orchards were causing Dozer to run aimlessly about.

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I headed back to the house for a conference call with the state prevention team I am a part of, intending to search the rest of the day. Just as the call was completed, I heard a thump and then a persistent scratching at the door. There he was. One exhausted, dust covered mound of burrs, paws a paddling blur on the glass, like a hamster in their exercise ball, desperate to reach the safety of the indoors. He made it to the sanctuary of Grandma’s house, about a half mile from home.

Overwhelming relief flooded our family, friends, neighbors and good Samaritans who we don’t even know. We are so thankful for all those who searched or sent caring wishes our way. They eased the overwhelming sense of loss.

A sense of peace drifted over Willow Flat as Dozer slept the third night in his own bed between three thrilled grandchildren. For a few moments, all was right with the world.