- November 23, 2024
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It was a long day at work. Marsha Knight and her husband, Jerry, are the owners of a small business, Grace Accounting Service, and at 7 p.m., they negotiated the streets of Palm Coast, trying not to get too grumpy when the occasional driver was too slow in the left lane or failed to use a turn signal.
Upon arriving at their Pine Grove home, long after dark, Marsha went to the backyard to call for their two dogs. Marsha, 60, is a cat person, but her 68-year-old husband loves his purebred beagles, which he used to take hunting. Calhoun is 1, almost 2 years old; his mother is Rachel, 3. The third beagle, Jehu, is Calhoun’s sire, but he’s 11 and isn’t as active in the backyard anymore.
Marsha called out to Calhoun and Rachel. No response.
Frustrating, she thought. You work all day, and the dogs don’t cooperate. It’s bad enough they’re so loud all the time.
She called again, but still nothing.
Soon, Marsha realized that Calhoun and Rachel had dug under the fence and were gone. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and again, she was still more annoyed than anything. Most likely, the neighbor would call any second to let her know where the dogs were.
But there was no word from the neighbor. So, Marsha and Jerry drove around the neighborhood, calling out for Rachel and Calhoun. Then they set out on foot, doggedly following the beams of their flashlights on the pavement. At night, Marsha thought, you can hear farther, so the dogs will probably hear us and follow our voices.
At 1 a.m., they gave up.
Marsha didn’t sleep well. She woke up whenever she heard a noise.
The weekend was terribly long. She called her neighbors, her friends, asking whether they had seen the dogs. The old beagle Jehu walked around in the backyard, seemingly searching for Rachel and Calhoun, moping. The frustration was now gone, and Marsha was instead feeling depressed and desperate to find them.
On Saturday, Jerry went to the store and bought supplies. He stapled signs onto wooden stakes and planted them along the side of the road. That evening, Marsha made a flier with photos of the beagles. Rachel weighed 25 pounds, Calhoun 44. Other than that, their descriptions were the same: brown speckled ears and face, a white stripe going from the nose up and over the top of the head, with a solid black back and white legs. Calhoun was a name Jerry liked from a John Wayne movie. Marsha named Rachel because she just looked like a Rachel.
Marsha talked to about 150 people in her search, but still, nothing. Everyone she talked to took the flier and promised to keep an eye out for the beagles. In a world of inconsiderate drivers, she was pleasantly surprised by the kindness of these strangers. You don’t always take the time to talk to people, but they’re willing to help, she thought. They’re good people.
Marsha and Jerry are devout in their faith. They prayed constantly for help.
On Sunday, two days since the dogs had disappeared, Marsha got out the Christmas ornaments. She was trying to carry on with daily life, but, in with the rest of the decorations, she found the stockings that were always hung for the dogs. And so, while she was trying to keep up hope that nothing terrible had happened to them, she thought about other losses in her life.
Her son died three years ago. He was 36.
Last year, her cat of 16 years died. That was another emptiness that had never gone away.
Just recently, her 25-year-old daughter and grandson moved out of the house, leaving everything quiet.
And now this.
She called the Sheriff’s Office. She called Animal Control. The company that made the microchips in the beagles sent out alerts to the veterinarians, but Marsha couldn’t wait for a response. So, when the offices opened on Monday, she left Jerry at work whenever she could and dropped off fliers at the office of her vet, as well as other vets in town — offices she never knew existed before. They encouraged her and said they’d spread the word. Some of the vets posted her flier while she was still there in the office.
Monday came and went. It had been three days.
Tuesday morning, she got out of bed. She went through her normal routine, but it felt different, as if it were happening to another person. She wasn’t focusing. They’re just pets, but it feels like I’ve lost another child, she thought. The heaviness and sadness were almost overwhelming.
Then, at 8:30 a.m., as she was about to leave for work, one of the veterinarian offices called. A customer had come in and seen the flier. He had seen two beagles in the woods behind his house.
Marsha and Jerry drove to the man’s house that morning. They went to the woods behind the home and started calling out, Rachel! Calhoun!
Marsha and Jerry listened.
They stared into the woods, waiting.
But there was no sign of the dogs, and Marsha turned to go back to the man’s house. She was going to leave a number for him and then head out into the woods to search for them. Maybe, she thought, they are just lost. Maybe no one has taken them after all.
Before she could leave her number, she heard them. They came crashing through the bushes.
Jerry and Marsha scooped them up. A miracle, Marsha thought.
They were hunting dogs, so they had spent a lot of the previous three days with their noses to the ground, getting scratched up and skinned. They had the worst tick infestation Marsha had ever seen.
But they appeared to be safe. Their vet took care of them, and they scarfed up as much dog food as Marsha gave them.
As a cat person, she never would have guessed how much joy she would feel, such relief to have found them. She called her daughter and her friends to tell them the news. She called the vet offices to celebrate.
Today, on Saturday, there will be a birthday party for Calhoun, who is turning 2. All three dogs will have a mini cupcake, and Calhoun will be given a new toy, as is the tradition in the home. The family will sing “Happy Birthday.”
And the next time the dogs get into one of their moods, when they get a bit too excited, and their barking, which is loud enough, gives way to the ear-piercing bugle call of the hunting dog, Marsha Knight won’t be quite so annoyed as she used to be.
— Has your dog ever run away? Email [email protected].
