Missing Dog

“Hey, Dad. Look at this.” We were standing next to the mailboxes. A large sign was posted on them. It read: Missing Dog. Answers to the name of Ginger. Cocker spaniel, tan with markings. Collar around her neck. If found, call 868-2902.

“Doesn’t that sound like the dog we saw running down the street this morning?” “It surely does. Let’s keep our eyes peeled as we drive home. We might see her again.”

We looked and looked as we drove home, but there was no sign of Ginger. I begged Dad to drive around the neighborhood one more time.

“We just might see her, if we go around one more time.” “Okay,” he said. “We have time, so let’s give it a whirl.”

I opened my window to call her name. “Ginger. Ginger. Here girl.” Dad continued to drive down the street. Finding Ginger seemed impossible.

“Dad, watch out!” A tiny blue car with a pizza sign on top cut us off as we were about to turn left into our street. Right as we swerved to miss the car, I noticed a flash of tan and white in the car’s mirror.

“Stop!” I wailed. I jumped out of the car and ran behind it. Right there in the middle of the road was a little dog that looked just like the poster. She was whimpering, but I managed to pick her up. I struggled back to the car.

Dad and I drove back to the mailboxes and got the number to call. Dad let me dial it. “Hello,” a sad voice answered the phone. “Hello,” I said. “I think I have a surprise for you!”