Lost and found

This Spanish sabbatical has thrown up its fair share of characters; who would have thought that one of the main players would be a hound dog though? 

Cast your minds back a few months. Some ridiculed whilst others empathised but I was kept ‘prisoner in my own home’ by Herbert, the Podenco. (Blog post here).

Since Herbert’s howling ceased on my patio, I’ve often wondered what has happened to the poor mutt. In an ideal world, the dog would have been picked up by a kindly soul or it might have found wherever it was journeying. I consoled myself that this is one of those frequent stories in life where the ending can never be known. 

Last week I was procrastinating with Facebook, a favourite hobby of mine when the heat gets too fierce or the mosquito bites too itchy. I stumbled upon an article on a local Catral news group that I’m part of. Typically, it hosts articles about the weather, fiestas or classic car shows. But, staring out at me today, was an article about a hound, Alisha, who had been missing in action for four months. I read on. 

There was a professional photograph of Alisha at the top of a Facebook group, “Alisha Busca”. The group had about 50 people in it then yet that number has now grown to well over 100. Without reading too far, it quickly became evident that this villa’s previous tenant (known ‘affectionately’ in this blog as crazy dog woman) was involved in the search. Alisha was her dog and had escaped back in May shortly after the move. 

Now, here’s the truly amazing bit. Lost, undoubtedly desperate and not yet settled into her new home, Alisha began her incredible journey. She spent a couple of weeks travelling from Aspe, over forty kilometres away, to get back to this villa here. 

I find that mind-blowing. It’s stating the obvious but Alisha didn’t have a phone with sat-nav on it; she can’t (to my knowledge) read road signs. The only time she would have done the trip before was in the back of a truck. How did she even start going in the right direction? These hunting dogs are smart. 

On Sunday evening, the lovely Alisha was reunited with her owner (and dog mates) after being recaptured about six miles from here. As the Facebook group found its stride, sightings of Alisha became increasingly frequent. After four months living in the wild, Alisha seems relatively healthy and I’m sure she’s happy to now be at her new home. I’m so glad that this dog is no longer stray.

There is, of course, a sting in this tales tail. Perhaps unsurprisingly, given the amount of money she still owes to Sarah in unpaid rent, bills and general damage, crazy dog woman didn’t pass on any forwarding details when she moved, not to me or the next door neighbours. Back in June when Alisha turned up on my doorstep I had no way of accurately contacting her though I tried. 

Alisha needn’t have suffered for so long over a Spanish summer if only her owner had acted in a more responsible and honest manner when moving. And that’s why this overwhelmingly happy story still leaves a slightly sour after-taste. 


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