Both Dogs: Lost … and Found

Lost and FoundAs the dogs bask quietly in the sun, it’s difficult to imagine how we survived the past two days. That we are together again is testament to a happy ending, but its fruition wasn’t always expected…


The trouble started with several brutal storms while we vacationed in Mexico last week. Our house sitter called to say that, after 20 inches of snow, sleet and freezing rain, Shamus, our Newf, leveraged this new mantel to jump the fence. Thankfully, true to Newf form, Shamus appreciates companionship more than freedom. He came back immediately. We were lucky.

When our sitter shoveled snow from the point of exit, the problem appeared to be solved – until it wasn’t. Shamus found another weight-bearing point. The only solution, until we came home, was sentencing Shamus to doggy jail at the maximum security kennel – along with Emmett who would surely learn this new trick too.


Upon our return to more freezing rain, we waited impatiently for the 40 degrees of melt promised by the weather man. I supervised the dogs’ outings while Tim left town for several days. On Wednesday, Shamus oh-so-obviously made calculations to jump. I wagged my finger and said “No, no, no!” calling both dogs back for treats. This worked so well that, in subsequent recalls, Shamus came back with expectations before doing his business. Overkill, obviously. But it kept him contained.


Tim promised to clear the fence when he returned, but I wanted to do my part too. I chipped, beat and hefted layers of snow infused with ice as strong as steel reinforcements, creating an inside mote 2 1/2 feet deep and spanning 4 post lengths. It felt like an enormous feat. I have the back injury to prove it. And it wasn’t nearly enough. Our dog yard spans a half acre.

Taking the boys out after dinner that night, Shamus showed interest in a high drift. I moved down the hill yelling “Don’t do it! No!” as he crouched his back legs to spring. He took the leap as my feet flew forward, my head hit the ground and my back locked in a twinge. Before I could get up, Emmett whined for his departed pack-mate and climbed the fence to follow Shamus.


The temperature was 14 degrees. It was dark. I called the neighbors and all kept their eyes peeled. Audra, my closest neighbor, spread the word and joined my search. Tim left NYC a day early and was home by midnight. While I drove circles around the mountain, he geared up and snowshoed through the woods. For all my boys, Tim included, I feared the worst: injuries, hypothermia, frostbite, a deadly run-in with our resident coyotes.

At 3 a.m., Tim and I settled in to regroup. There was no sleep. Having opened the yard gates and dog door earlier hoping for a return, we listened for any sign. By 6 a.m., the sky turned from pitch black to a hint of dark gray. Tim and I geared up with snowshoes and headed back into the woods together.


Emmett had run in spirals trotting gingerly beside turkey tracks until they were crossed by deer tracks, spinning around again after rabbit tracks. Most prints were 3-6 inches deep and they crossed each other, forcing us to look deep into the holes to identify their source. I lost Emmett’s trail countless times and picked it up again later only to end where I began.

Tim followed Shamus’ tracks, which eventually traveled in a straight line. At times, there were body imprints where Shamus crashed several feet into the deep snow. Tim’s snowshoes sank too, at times, and his knees – in need of surgery – ached as he lifted the shoes out for each next step. My back screamed. Pouring sweat, our fingers and toes turned to ice. Each of us, when asking the other how we felt, said we were fine compared to what the dogs must be feeling. We kept moving forward. It was all we could do.


Friends and Family – By 8 a.m., I returned to greet the search party assembled by Tim. Our friend Mike stayed at the house in case our boys returned in need of medical care. Dawn and Lori drove the streets. Lori picked Tim up along the way.

Local Animal Services – Leaving our number with animal control, the man seemed scattered and offered little comfort. Menands Shelter refuses lost dog calls. And Nassau Veterinary Clinic finally offered a ray of sunlight. Christina, at reception, alerted the whole clinic. Debbie, a vet tech, said to call the local highway departments. Every client who walked in the door was made aware – all day long.

Help in Unexpected Places – Fred and Bob at the Nassau Highway Department not only kept an eye out, but they sent trucks and hiked along the power lines tracking what appears to have been a coyote. Fred even called us that afternoon for updates and friended me on Facebook for news. The Schodack Highway Department spread the word too, through supervisors and staff.

I made fliers for – and spoke with people at – post offices, gas stations and convenience stores. We spoke with Andy, our mail man, who spread the word to the FedEx and UPS guys. Fliers went to every neighbor’s house, Bill at the transfer station, and to the propane delivery man.

Coming Together – The energy of the entire town and the support of our family and friends gave Tim and me the energy needed to push through our exhaustion and past heads full of frightening, negative thoughts.


Dog Trek

Tim found tracks near a dilapidated trailer home and snowshoed in to learn what direction the dogs were headed. They had been gone 18 hours at this point. We now know they had traveled about 6 straight miles plus countless zig-zags. It was 2 hours before sunset and temps were dropping to 10 degrees. The good news? Shamus and Emmett were traveling together.

With a bead on their trail, Tim entered the opposite side of the woods hoping to meet them head on. I drove to the trailer to wait. There was no guarantee the dogs were still here, but it was worth looking.

After hiking a mile in, Tim called asking me to lay on the horn so he could follow the sound out. I honked. He heard nothing. A few minutes later, I honked again. He still heard nothing. He decided to keep hiking while I widened the search around the mountain.

Before we hung up, I told Tim about a snow boulder that rolled off the plow stack in front of my car. It wasn’t there the first two times I drove by, yet it now faced me – featuring a giant, yellow pee stain. I laughed and said, “Maybe it’s a sign!” One could only hope. We hung up and I drove off.


Moments later, Tim called and said, “I’ve got them.”

What? But where is he? After several dropped cell connections, I went back to his car so we could meet up and called Nassau vet to say we’d bring both dogs soon. Tim came out of the woods and I ran out of the car to help him, tears flowing. The dogs pulled him toward me with exuberance and, together, Tim and I put them in the car.

I looked at Tim, astonished. They looked incredible. “Are they okay?”

He shrugged with doubt. “Their pads are bleeding. They’re shaking. They flung themselves in the snow to rest several times while I walked them out.”

I looked in the back seat. My boys were now slumped trembling against one another. Their heads merged with the car seat. The skin hung loose from their faces, deflated. The energetic trot toward me was fleeting.

Tim recalled how he yelled their names and heard Shamus bark. As he moved closer in his hat, sunglasses, coat, gloves and snowshoes, they both barked defensively. When he took off his hat, glasses and gloves, Shamus came post-holing through the snow, collapsing into Tim’s legs. Emmett bounded after, plowing his body into Shamus for warmth. Tim said Emmett’s eyes expressed a grateful sense of relief at being rescued. The dogs were not enjoying their adventure. They were very confused, scared and lost.


Emmett lay wilted, shivering in the sun on the waiting room floor. He looked 60 pounds worth of small wrapped in Tim’s big, red parka. A ravenous Shamus briefly begged for treats from the counter, then greeted newcomers with a weak but wagging tail. We entered the exam room separately, each boy getting a thorough once over.

I don’t know how or why, but there was no hypothermia. Nothing appeared broken. There was no frostbite. We were told Shamus looked like he enjoyed his adventure and Emmett just seemed exhausted. With pain meds to ease the aches of their vigorous hike, we were to feed and water them as usual and let them rest. It was a miracle.

Then, at check-out, Debbie called to say she had taken down the LOST flier at the post office. Tim took down the one at Stewart’s. How very satisfying.


We brought water bowls to our exhausted dogs in their beds, made rounds of thank-you calls, and our reunited pack fell asleep shortly after dinner. We slept straight on ’til morning.

The dogs were traumatized the next day, refusing to go outside, even after so many hours of sleep. We coaxed them out after breakfast and they limped painfully through the yard. Each stuck close to their humans until they relieved themselves in grand quantities and returned to the house. When the dogs were safely inside, all my emotions broke free.

Sleeping for hours on my watch and as Tim came home from work to shovel, Shamus didn’t climb the stairs to sleep with us. Things still weren’t right. Last night, Shamus stopped bearing weight on his left, front paw. We iced it, offered pain meds. Seeing our boy in pain is torturous. We hunkered down on the floor with him and moved to bed only after Shamus was more comfortable. Would this nightmare ever end?

We brought Shamus back to Nassau Vet this morning. X-rays showed no breaks. Tendinitis is likely the culprit. A questionable flap of skin could be a tiny bit of frostbite, or the housing for a thorn. We have new pain meds, a wrap and antibiotics. The improvement since has been tremendous. My heart may finally stop breaking.

On the way home once more, I had the chance to take down another flier. I now knew the relief Tim and Debbie felt removing the others. There is nothing better than saying, “We found them!”

Today we spent hours clearing the rest of the snow by hand, me chipping away at ice, Tim shoveling it away, each of us making the yard safe once more. The dogs came out with confidence today. I think we may have crossed to the other side of this.

It’s time to finally move on…


  1. Sooo glad things are okay now! What a nightmare. Love happy endings!!

    • Thanks, Kim. I'm too exhausted to feel happy. Relieved seems more appropriate – and regretful, guilt-ridden … all those awful emotions that come with the what-ifs. Happiness will come eventually, I hope, just not yet.

  2. I'm so glad you found them and they are okay! Many years ago, we lost our dog in the snow and cold. My husband had her out for a walk, and she saw a deer and took off after it! It was the same thing – a long sleepless night, driving around the area to see if we could spot her, and my husband tracking her on foot. Luckily, she found a home with dogs. I don't know if they took her inside, but she was no worse for the wear when he found her. A happy ending to two stories, which could have turned out otherwise. Hope you all are feeling better soon!

    • Feeling powerless is the most debilitating thing. In the dark, it's just so hard and, even in the daylight, you're out there searching and searching but finding nothing. Everything starts to look the same…

      I'm so glad your dog was okay and that mine are going to be too. Our Newf woke with a very swollen ankle this morning, which is very painful. While his pain tears me apart, if that's the worst of it, we're all going to be okay.

  3. I have tears flowing down my cheeks. Tears at what they must have gone through; at what you guys went through, and tears of gratitude that they made it back home safely. What an amazingly scary, frightening and heartwarming story. I am so sorry that you guys went through all this! But, what amazing friends, family and strangers have touched your lives. To think that they would do so much to help out! I am so very glad it ended the way it did.

    • Thank you, Mel. I'm pretty much a loner by nature so all this participation, especially from strangers, blew my mind. Fred from the highway department was our anonymous angel throughout the day. In my panic, I never caught his name and had to call the following morning to get it from his co-worker, Bob, who also helped in the search. To not know who these people were, to have never met them or not know their name, felt like some kind of sacrilege. I wanted to not only thank them, but to know them. Their generosity and kindness was such a gift.

      • Ho beautiful that you went the extra effort to find out who they were and what a great kindness they showed. I am the same way, so I understand how hard it was to ask for help. I am in awe.

  4. I'm so glad it's a happy endIng and that you found both Shamus and Emmet well! Good too that they seem to be regaining their confidence. Shamus's coat must have come in very handy. I can't imagine how very long those 20 hours must have been. Losing Georgia for 15 minutes once, when she went foraging in the bushes, sent me into a panic.

    The conditions there sound very harsh still. I hope that there's a break in it for you soon so that your back and your husband's knee will have a chance to rest too, from all that ice and snow clearing.

    Hugs xox

    • Thank you, Georgia, for your kind words. Tim and I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning with the exhaustion, aches and pains. But when we did, he went back out in the yard again, widening the mote just a bit more in a narrow place. Popping Ibuprofen like vitamins takes the edge off, but it's the emotional scars that will take the longest to heal.

  5. What an ordeal… glad you found both dogs and that both the dogs are okay now. * newfie hugs*

    • Thank you, Kanweienea. I'm still amazed that they traveled together for so long. Once, during a previous escape, they went in different directions and Emmett left Shamus, overheated an dehydrated, under a tree in the heat while he went tracking animals for kicks. I'm glad Shamus didn't call paybacks this time.

  6. Oh gosh, I'm so glad to hear things are okay now!

  7. Kim, I'm so glad to hear that the boys are okay! What a nightmare. When I was younger, my parents lost our chihuahua for 3 days… it was terrifying. We hired bloodhounds try to track her and everything. I've always felt that we were so lucky to find her again. My heart goes out to you – thank goodness the boys are home!

  8. Wow, that was a very gripping story!! I don't know what I would do if Jersey went missing. I'm so glad that the dogs are okay and safe at home! After all that drama I'm sure that they will never stray from home again. Warm and safe at home with Mom and Dad is far more fun than alone and lost in the winter wilderness.

    • Karen, I wish I could believe that. These guys have been known to unravel the chain link fence. When we wired it back up, they unwired it. We bought a whole new section, reinforced it with wire ties every 2 feet, and they waited for ice-packed snow to hop over. I suspect they haven't learned a thing.

      The crazy thing? This fence has successfully housed a grand number of dogs over the span of 15 years… until Shamus and Emmett came to live here.

  9. So glad you found them! What a nightmare! Glad they are home safe with you.

  10. Oh Kim! I had to read the end of the post before I could read the middle. I'm SO THANKFUL the boys were found!!! Even though my heart is owned by a small white fluff, there's a part of it that belongs to the Newfies. What a horrible experience for all of you–thank goodness for a happy ending!

    • Bev, I wish I could have read to the end while we were in it. LOL (It feels good to finally laugh.) I truly thought the worst and bounced between expecting to lose them forever and expecting to come to find them in the house. It was such a roller coaster ride. Only today do i feel like I can start to breathe again.

  11. Oh my heart was just breaking for you when I read this, I can only begin to imagine what you must have went through.

    I am so happy to hear that they were both found and you were reunited:)

  12. What a scare for you and Tim, and for the boys. I'm so glad they are home and are safe.

    • Yeah, Michele. It looks like we counted our chickens before they hatched. Turns out disaster struck just after vacation, not during – although the snow accumulation started then. We've never had so many storms in a row.

  13. I just can't imagine your stress and worry. I'm so glad you found them. I will look forward to reports that they are regaining their strength.

    • Thank you, Peggy.

      Emmett has returned to good health and is happy-go-lucky as ever. That's just how he rolls.

      While Shamus' spirits are high, his front leg is still a concern. Swelling has increased significantly and I can't help but wonder if he tore something. We know there are no broken bones, but we're watching, icing and limited his activity. I think the pain mads are helping, but he still won't bear much weight. We're hoping for a speedy and thorough recovery.

  14. My love to you all. I hope the healing continues and your scars fade with time.

  15. I read this after reading your post about the second escape. Even knowing the outcome, my heart was in my throat the whole time… yikes, can't even imagine the terror of not knowing where they are and if they are okay. With all the snow we've had here, there are several area dogs that have also escaped and are still missing. The owners are, as you know, frantic. One dog has been spotted a number of times, but nobody has been able to catch it because it is panicked and runs away back into the woods. Really scary! Glad you have a happy ending!

  16. I had to scroll down to the last part as I had to know if this was a happy ending for the Shamus and Emmet– and then you guys. This was indeed a very scary ordeal. Keep safe always, hugs and kisses from your friends over at

  17. I had to scroll down to the last part as I had to know if this was a happy ending for Shamus and Emmet– and then you guys. This was indeed a very scary ordeal. Keep safe always, hugs and kisses from your friends over at


  1. […] This One Wild Life for all it's worth « Both Dogs: Lost … and Found […]

  2. […] posting about our frigid, 2-day dog search & rescue, which was frightfully taxing on both our dogs and on us, I received many comments assuming Shamus […]

  3. […] We hung fliers and organized friends, veterinarians, the mailman, and town garage crews in our search. As night fell, my husband snowshoed over the mountain in 14 degree weather serenaded by the shrill calls of hungry coyotes on the hunt. By morning, we found tracks suggesting the dogs had hunkered down in an abandoned trailer before moving on. When Tim pulled them from the deep woods, stumbling, weak, and dehydrated, they had traveled 6 miles. It took us all a week to recover from the stress alone. (Read “Both Dogs: Lost … and Found” in its entirety.) […]

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