We almost lost our dog yesterday. It was the longest and most terrifying two hours of my recent history. My wife and I were camping in a Wisconsin State Park, and after a beautiful afternoon and night, we decided to do one more hike the following morning before heading back home. We took Roscoe and started out on what we thought would be a quick 2-hour, 3-mile hike. Roscoe has a habit of leading in front of us, sniffing out the trail and occasionally heading off the trail for a romp, but he was never more than 100 feet from me or farther away from earshot or eyesight. I've hiked and backpacked with Roscoe on populated trails and in the backcountry of the Cascade Mountains in winter. He's never disappeared. But about 2.5 miles into our hike, we hadn't seen Roscoe for a few minutes. He loves to swim, and we were near the Wisconsin River, so we assumed he went in for a swim. But he didn't come when we called him. Nothing. We didn't hear him run off to chase anything. We didn't hear him bark or get into an altercation. Nothing. It was like a silent alien abduction. He just disappeared. It was so bizarre. I raised him since he was 8 weeks old, and he's off-leash 95% of the time, and he's only run off once when there was a storm. But out hiking he's the trail dog, he found our way back to a trail when I had gotten lost once in the wilderness. He's good. And smart. It just didn't make sense. Stephanie couldn't make sense of it. Did coyotes eat him up? Did he drown? He wouldn't just up and go; numerous times before, when he was ahead, we would find him waiting for us at a fork in the trail wanting to know which way to go. He would come back down the trail to see where we were if he hadn't see us in a while. Where would he have gone and why? For two hours we ruminated over these questions. Stephanie and I backtracked, the split up at the fork where we lost him, thinking he probably went up one or the other. We met back at the car having not found him, and then we went back down to where we lost him to try one last time.

He still was not there.

We hiked back to the car, slowly, sadly and wondered if we had seen our dog for the last time. I knew that if Roscoe didn't find his way to people by nightfall he probably was gone for good. I knew he wouldn't be lost, but I knew that he could be dead.

When we arrived back at our car, exhausted, thirsty and hungry Stephanie checked the cell phone, and there was a message from the welcome center: Roscoe had found his way to the manager's garage, and he was tied up out front of his house. We have no idea how her got there, but he was happy to see us. Somehow he got away from us. Was it the rain; did it spook him? Did he chase an animal so far that he was no longer in earshot?

Regardless, I kneeled in front of my dog and cried all of the tears I was anxiously holding and repressing when I knew there was a very good chance we lost him. Of course, the Ranger who was waiting for us so that he could give us a citation decided that now was the opportune time to lecture us on why they have a leash law at the park. Not once did he do this, but three times. Now, I understand the guy has a job to do, and I understand that I'll need to pay a fine. But lecturing me on a leash law isn't going to be what puts Roscoe on a leash next time. It's the fact that I almost lost him. I told the Ranger that I didn't need a lecture on leash laws at that time, and that I'll just pay the fine, to which he responded "Well, I think you do." You think a grown man crying about the fact that he almost lost his dog needs a lecture about leash laws? I think god gave me that lecture quite clearly when Roscoe disappeared. Oh, this was the other doozy: "this is a perfect example of why we have a leash law." No, idiot. You have a leash law because the State of Wisconsin doesn’t want to be held liable for passively condoning dogs being off-leash. The State of Wisconsin doesn't give a shit whether or not I loose my dog, which was exemplified by the Ranger's total inability to help us find him when we reported Roscoe lost. So don't lecture me about your revenue-generating, cover-our-ass law as if you actually give a shit about my dog or me. My wife and I were going to give a generous donation to the park, because we felt bad for placing such a burden on the employees, but after being treated so poorly by a Ranger, whose only concern was maintaing a power trip, we decided that the citation will be all we donate. What an asshole.

BUT. All of this is really is insignificant. It wouldn't be a post if I didn't rant about something, now would it. We're just glad to have Roscoe back. We would have paid any amount to have him found. Now here he lies, on our living room carpet, silently sleeping and dreaming of the deer he chased that cloudy afternoon on the Wisconsin River. We know one day Roscoe will have to leave us, but we pray that it will be from old age.