Letter from Mary Anne Whelan

Thankful for Neighbors

On Sunday, after attending the opera, I came home to find that my newly-acquired dog was nowhere to be found. She had been securely shut in the house and had dog door access only to the well-fenced back yard.

As I had had her for less than 24 hours, she did not yet have dog tags and was not chipped. She comes obediently when called, but didn’t. My heart was in my mouth as I searched—the path where we had walked that morning; all around the property. She might have been hit by a car, or decided to try to make it back to her home of the previous years, which was 45 miles away.

I went to my neighbors. Now, I am ashamed to say that I did not know them. I had introduced myself to the people on one side—several summers ago—but not the people on the other; I had encountered the three young men from across the street only transiently but had happened to pass them in the morning, and introduced them to my dog. I used to know the people across the street well, but they had moved and the house was empty.

Knocking on unfamiliar doors, I described my dog and asked if they had seen her. Two had; one person showed me a security camera shot of her in their back yard, which fixed the time and location. Everyone I talked to immediately offered to help. People set off in different directions.

Within the hour, I had her back; the kind people next door had got her and brought her home. The person who had her on a leash then looked at my dog yard fence, found two suspicious places, and observed that the grass was matted in front of one them. He asked for screws and a screw driver and secured the loose board; went home, to get a better tool, and secured the other place.
Neighbors. I am so glad I live where I do. Thank you all.

Mary Anne Whelan
Cooperstown