I decided I should check up on Juju to make sure he wasn't doing anything he shouldn't. I last heard him in the family room but when I checked the couch and his crate, he wasn't there. So I checked his other spots in the front room--the chaise, Boomer's crate by my desk, Popeye's bed, Phoebe's crate by the door. No Juju.
Did he go to another part of the house? I looked in the hallway, thinking he might have made himself comfortable on the pile of clothes on the floor. Nope. The other rooms were closed but maybe he went in one and locked himself in. But he wasn't in any of those places either.
Well, Juju's a tiny dog and he camoflauges easily, so maybe I just overlooked him. Back I went to the front room, looking carefully behind the stuffed animals on the chaise. Back I went to the family room, looking closely at the blankets on the couches, which are the same color as he is. Still, no Juju. Back I went to through the hallway, and then I heard the little clang of his collar coming from the family room. I went back to that room and there he was. I knew he had to have been in there, but I could've sworn I checked carefully.
This exact thing happened the next morning. When I couldn't find him, knowing he was around somewhere in the house and most likely in the family room, I got frustrated. Where could Juju be?
I had been hoping to quietly catch him at his hiding place, but I finally got too fed up and just cried out his name. Lo and behold, I began to hear the soft clanging of his tag. It was indeed emanating from the family room, which is where I still figured he must be. In fact, it seemed like the sound was coming from his empty crate.
Juju had been picked up as a stray. He was skin and bones (and still is) and his nails were like talons, so he must have been a stray for quite a while. I wonder if he used to burrow like this while living in the open.
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