The Chronicle (online at least) has been rife with stories of animals returning home, always a beautiful thing.
The first was yesterday, the story of Butch, a 150-year-old tortoise who had been in the family since 1943(!) and had disappeared six weeks ago, who suddenly reappeared back home.
The second, in today's paper, is of George, a cat missing for 13 years! He was microchipped and the animal control people who pulled him from the mobile home in which he had been living returned him to his owners.
These are small stories, but lovely ones with details such as the three dogs licking Butch's shell and George's owner who "found myself making small bargains with a God I've never believed in and want whatever is best (for) him."
There's something about the lost being found that's so powerful. The unexpectedness of it; the timing of it; the not having known what had happened being suddenly erased. And even though I have nothing to do with these families, I found myself being relieved and happy for them, so glad that these small living things had come home.
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