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   A couple of months ago I told the story of Jag’s new propensity to go to Damon’s house whenever he had the chance. We are not sure why this has become his new fascination but every day, either I would go over to Damon’s and pick him up or Damon or Zane would bring him home. He was always happy to be home in his warm bed in the garage and to have a meal. The next morning, rested and full, he would be ready to make the trip again. If it was getting dark, Jag was content to stay home. Being a terrier, he has traits that are both endearing and frustrating. He is stubborn and smart as well as thinking he is the toughest animal around. I have done everything I can think of to keep him home. I have tried keeping him in the garage and walking him on a leash when he needs to go out. This was frustrating to both of us as he does not like a leash, and he wanted to go outside constantly. If I let him run loose, he would come back when called, most of the time. Occasionally, it was though he had suddenly become deaf and could not hear me calling him back. He would take off making the long trip over the hills and through the woods. There were days he was brought back more than once only to return to Damon’s. His trips became so constant that I even thought about tying him up. After consideration, I decided against this. He has run free his entire life and absolutely hates to be tied. I thought it would be better to let whatever happens, happen rather than torture the old man.

   In all the years we have had him, Jag has served as a watch dog, keeping wildlife out of the yard. With no limits to his courage, he will attack a raccoon or opossum without hesitation. He has realized he can not catch a deer so doesn’t bother to chase them but will bark enough to get them out of his yard. He is not the greatest hunting dog but loves to hunt anyway. If I have a gun, he will take off running in front of me, convinced I am going to shoot something for him. He is also convinced I never miss, which occasionally leads to disappointment on his part. He can track a rabbit but usually tracks it to where it has been rather than where it is going. This is not very productive.

   One evening last week, I let Jag and Billie out before we went to bed. As usual, Billie was back in about five minutes, but Jag was not with him. I waited a while and checked again but Jag was still not back. Since it was an unusually warm winter evening, I thought Jag may have changed his routine and decided to travel to Damon’s for an evening visit though it was unlike him to miss a meal or travel at night.

   The next morning, I texted Damon to see if Jag was there. He had not seen him but if a person is not looking for a black dog in the pre-dawn darkness in the early morning hours, it would be easy to overlook him. That afternoon when I got done with work, I drove by Damon’s to pick up Jag. He was not there, which I found quite concerning. He has been known to meet up with his buddy Claire, Damon’s terrier, and the two of them go hunting. This was not the case as Claire greeted me when I pulled in the driveway.

   There are several things that live in the woods that would do a little dog harm and Jag is not afraid of any of them. I think his wanderlust and courage may have become his undoing. We have not seen a trace of him since he last decided to make the trip across the farm. I am afraid the little old dog is gone.

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