Lost And Found

She rested under the tree, transitively motionless, for an indeterminable span of time, until she heard a new noise join the natural outdoor soundtrack. She opened her eyes to see a black and brown dachshund sitting in front of her, whipping the grass with its enthusiastically wagging tail. It seemed to be smiling at her.

Cesse smiled back with a small, weak chuckle, holding out her hand to say hello.

"Well, hi there, fella!" she said. "Where did you come from?"

Sensing friendliness, the dog hopped up on Cecily's lap. He placed his paws on her chest and began to sniff and lick her face.

She giggled. "Oh, gosh!" she said. "Well, you're an affectionate little thing, aren't you??"

She took the pup's paws and started to lower him to the grass, but he hopped back up on her. He seemed eager for attention. He also seemed oddly familiar for some reason, but with Cessy's diminishing brain power which had turned rather mushy by this point in time, she couldn't figure out why or how.

Cesse began to enjoy this short spell spent playing with this funny dog. It was a nice diversion from the pains of her daily ordeal. She envied him. Most dogs—and other animals, really—lived such simple, carefree lives. And thanks to the surplus of animal lovers in town, most of them—at least the cute ones—didn't have to worry a great deal about the source of their next meal. Which was more than Cecily could say for herself. Too bad there wasn't a surplus of homeless 34-year-old brunette lovers around.

A short time later, she was no longer feeling the need to rest. And she'd come to the disappointing conclusion that she couldn't make anything happen for herself just sitting still, so she had to get up and at least start walking somewhere...again. She pushed herself back to her feet, about the time the dachshund ran behind the tree she'd visited and returned with a stick between his teeth.

Aw, he wants to play, thought Cessy. Okay, fella, I'll give you one good throw. She took the stick and flung it as far in one direction as she could. The dog barked chasing after it. Cesse slung her purse back over her shoulder, tried to decide which way to head off and picked a route. But not before the pup returned once more with the stick, dropping it at her feet.

Again, she chuckled at the small wiener dog's happy, worry-free demeanor. She threw the stick again, turned and started away, but back he came with it yet one more time, dropping it and running circles around her feet.

She tried throwing it back into the clearing for the third instance. Same result.

Cecily sighed. She wasn't making much progress here. She wouldn't object to spending the day playing with a dog, but she had bigger, more pressing concerns on her mind just now. She didn't want to abandon this pup, from wherever he'd come—especially what with it being so adorable and evidently pleased to meet her—but she couldn't just stay here with it either.

This time she wound up and pretended to throw it, but kept it in her hand. The dog ran for a few seconds before halting, whirling its head back and forth, and darting its eyes all about, finally realizing it hadn't actually been cast for him to fetch this time. He was confused. He turned back to see the woman departing with his toy.

Cesse heard him running back to meet up with her yet again. As was the nature of canines, he wasn't peeved that she'd tricked him with the fake throw. He merely wanted to keep playing.

Hm, she thought in amusement. It seemed she wasn't getting rid of him. Well, all right...looks like I've a partner in crime...

...As it were.

The dog followed alongside as she walked, sans destination. At least with a dog by her side, she might appear somewhat less conspicuous out on her own. He hopped about from her left to right, trying to grab at the stick she was still carrying, engaging in the more or less normal repertoire of interactive dog activities. He barked, he continued circling her ankles, he chased his tail, he made puppy love to her leg, he licked and scratched himself, he chased squirrels and bunnies around.

One of them ran into the street. He quickly followed. A car was coming.

"Doggie!" Cesse called. "Hey! Stop! Come back here!"

Fortunately, the loyal dachshund pup thought more of Cesse than the rapidly escaping animal scurrying over the pavement. Besides, she had the stick. He returned to her side, oblivious to the oncoming car, contentedly panting and wagging.

Soon they reached an intersection, so Cecily showed him the proper way to cross a street. They waited for the signal, and then went. When they got to the other side, Cesse had to stop for a breather. The seemingly never tuckered out Energizer Puppy barked at her and began trotting off in another direction, turning back around and yapping for her to follow him. He kept running.

"Do—..." Cecily sighed in pursuit. Following his lead seemed as good an idea as any right now. Perhaps he'd have better luck finding a small source of decent fortune than she'd been. He was making it difficult, however.

"Doggie, slow down!"

He led her around in a 360° pattern, slowing every so often so she could catch up, at last taking her to an area she'd been earlier the same morning. She panted along with him, catching her breath, before she recognized where she was.

Resting against a telephone pole for support till her stamina replenished, she looked up. The crisscrossing street signs informed her that she had just reached the corner of 41st and Boulder Street.

She looked back down. The wiener pup was hopping repeatedly into the air, excitedly barking and yipping at her.

"Hey! Hey, what's gotten into you, fella?" Cessy wanted to know. "What're we doing here?"

The dog circumnavigated the telephone pole halfway, lifted his leg and marked it.

Cecily made a face of half-amusement and half-unpleasantness.

"I see," she noted.

Raising her gaze to give the dog some privacy while he did his business, Cesse saw something else she'd noticed before. This was the intersection where stood this same telephone pole on which she'd seen this very poster. There was also a black and white photo on it which now looked much more familiar. This time she paid closer attention to its words.

LOST DOG, it read. 3-YEAR-OLD MALE, DACHSHUND, BROWN AND BLACK. ANSWERS TO THE NAME OF HOLLAWEENIE.

Cesse looked down at him in coincidental surprise.

"...H—...Hollaweenie?" she called.

Sure enough, the dog, now through peeing, leapt into the air, barking extra loudly.

Whoa! Son of a... Cessy thought. HOW did you...

Somehow, this obviously very bright dachshund pup had led her right back to the spot where she'd seen his missing poster. She exhaled in astonishment.

How...how...astonishing.

She read the rest of the poster under his picture.

DESPERATELY MISSED. IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL 555-1710, OR RETURN TO 16730 RANDALL'S VIEW TERRACE. VERY GENEROUS REWARD OFFERED.

"WOW!" Cessy whispered. "Oh my goodness!" She looked down again, just to make sure.

"Hollaweenie?"

The pup again barked and leapt on his hind legs, pawing at her thighs over the dress. Yep, this was he all right.

Cecily couldn't believe it. "OH MY DEAR GOD!" she whispered. She looked back at the poster again. It was true. It was him.

She'd found a lost dog!

Actually, he had found her.

And there was a very—in boldface, right in the poster—generous reward involved. Under more normal circumstances Cecily Helmsley was not the kind of person who would care about a reward, but due to present-day circumstances which were out of her hands, such an offering proved more necessary at the immediate moment.

Obviously, her mission now couldn't be clearer. It looked like today she would actually have an aim, and a destination, courtesy of this brilliant, adorable dachshund. How...mindblowingly serendipitous!

Cesse looked back down at Hollaweenie, becoming excited. She tore off as much of the poster from the pole as would come, careful to keep all vital information together in one clean piece.

"Do you know how to get back to your owner's house, boy?" she asked.

The patently intelligent dachshund turned in a couple of circles before standing still and once more whipping his head back and forth in a few different directions. Finally, he barked and began prancing off.

Cecily followed. "Oh, good boy! Good boy!" she praised, jogging after him.

She certainly meant to encourage him, but she couldn't be sure if he was in fact leading her the right way. After all, if he could get home on his own, he probably would have been back there long ago, and this lost dog poster would never have been needed to be made in the first place. Still, she followed.

She read the poster over and ran the address through her head again and again. 16730 Randall's View Terrace. It sounded only vaguely familiar, like a street she would have driven through once just as an anomaly, like a detour, because the street she usually took instead was closed off or something. What was more, it sounded upscale. Which could also possibly mean...

No...no no no, Cessy, she told herself. Don't start with that. We know what it says, but we can't get our hopes too high. Let's just actually get the little guy home first and foremost, and see what happens. What's most important is reuniting him with his owner.

This was harder than may have appeared at first glance without a more efficient form of transportation. Cecily might have been keeping it clean and keeping it green, as it were, hoofing it along, but she couldn't exactly make time stop while she found her way. Not that she had any appointments to keep in the meantime or anything.

Finally, Hollaweenie slowed down and seemed to lose his way. Cesse sensed this was inevitable, so she began looking around for other individuals out and about who might be able to guide her. Soon she spotted one, a gentleman walking down the street sorting through his mail.

"Pardon me, sir?" she called to him. The man turned his attention in her direction.

"Hi!" she waved. "'Scuse me, sorry to bother you, but, could you please tell me how to get to Randall's View Terrace, if you know?"

He thought a second. "Hm, that's in the Hect's development property," he recalled. "Yeah, now that I think of it, it's just been there for a year or two. Let's see now, from here you go, eh..."

He turned to point southeast. "About a mile or so down Cadway Street until you get to the Twelve Pines Circle, then I...believe at that point you bang a left, keep going for another block or two, and you should be nearby Hect's right about then."

A mile, huh? That was actually closer than Cesse figured she was to this address, yet her feet were still starting to nag her for a little rest around now. The gentleman was just finishing as she looked back up to him.

"That's really all I know off the top of my head, though; sorry I can't be of more help right away."

"Oh, no, that is a lot of help!" Cesse replied. "See, I, uh, found this lost dog here, right?" She gestured to Hollaweenie wandering about sniffing things he found interesting, and showed the man the poster. "And according to this, his owner lives there. The little fella and I've been trying to find the way for a while. If it's a mile from here, that's a pretty good distance, but I guess it could be more, too; it could be five miles."

The gentleman watched as Hollaweenie ran around examining things on the ground and giving short chase to small animals.

"Aw, lost, huh?" he asked. "Poor little guy. Well, that's too bad, but if you wanna give me a minute, I'll run inside my apartment real quick and Google the directions for you, if that'd be more helpful."

Cesse was touched. "Aw, you would? How nice! Sure, here's the poster."

She gave him a few moments. Certainly enough, true to his word, he returned a short while later with a couple printed out pages. The next he said utterly floored her with surprise.

"...If it would make things easier too on ya, I could give you a ride over, so you and the little tyke don't have to hitch. Homeless folks need all the breaks they can get, after all."

Cecily's mouth collapsed open.

"How...how did you know?"

The gentleman gave her a look up and down that basically answered her question. But he exercised tact in his verbal response.

"Takes one to know one."

Her eyebrows arched.

"My name is George Carlin, ma'am—I KNOW, I know, I know; pure coincidence. But for a short time last year, just before Christmas, I was homeless myself."

"Wow, no kidding?"

"Honest to goodness. Let's not go into all the details, but then these two wonderful girls saved my life—in and around some of the most bizarre circumstances I've ever encountered," he chuckled, "They got my apartment lease reinstated."

"Oh my gosh, that's fantastic!" remarked Cesse. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," said George, guiding her to his car. "I needed it, too, on several levels. At that point, I was seriously drained of hope. It really helped restore my faith in humanity. Ever since then, I've been inspired to go out of my way to help anyone down on their luck when I get the opportunity."

Cecily smiled warmly. "That's so awesome," she benevolently opined. She squatted down and rapped on her thigh with the stick to get Hollaweenie's attention. "Here, boy! C'mere! C'mon! We've got a ride! We don't have to walk anymore!"

She buckled them together in the passenger seat. Luckily, the dachshund didn't mind being held on her lap. George drove them slow and easy, but the motion proved still daunting to Hollaweenie, who, while okay with sitting still in Cessy's lap, became quite vocal along the trip in the moving vehicle. Cessy tried to soothe him down by petting and stroking him, but she ended up considerably lucky he didn't bite, claw or draw blood in any other manner.

"Oh, wow!" Cesse exclaimed as they pulled into Randall's View Terrace. It was a nest of luxury homes shrouded in foliage. Most of the residences were identically beautiful, practically as close together as could be without being connected. It seemed that pulling up to this impressive landscape of property separated the adults from the children, so to speak. "This place is beautiful!"

George nodded, voicing agreement. Cesse now had two thoughts occupying her mind. The first was hopeful, that if one of these luxury buildings was Hollaweenie's home, this reward the poster advertised may be far more generous than she could've anticipated. The second thought, however, made her apprehensive. Oh, gosh, I forgot, I look like hell. In such a grand neighborhood as this, she could be viewed as an even sorer thumb than normal. She hoped she didn't especially disturb the peace here in her raggedy, destitute state. Oh well, she was at least protected by the seclusion of George's car until they reached their destination—which they counted the dwellings on the even-numbered side of the street until they reached.

"Here it is," noted George, pulling alongside the curb and parking. "One-sixty-seven-thirty."

"That's what it says!" confirmed Cessy, referring to the poster one more time. She went to open the door. "Well, shall we?"

George leaned forward and reached back for his wallet. "Actually, Miss, I apologize, but I'm afraid I've just reached my free time limit for now. I've got another previous engagement to keep, but—"

He retrieved his wallet and removed a business card.

"Here, I want you to take this. There's all my contact info. If you need any more help or support with...y'know...anything, feel free."

"Oh, why, thank you, George!" said Cecily. "No kidding, thank you so, so much. I was so fortunate to meet you. Really, you couldn't have been a more helpful acquaintance."

George shrugged with a smile. "Aw, shucks, ma'am, it was nothing."

"Okay, boy," Cessy said, rubbing Hollaweenie's head. "We're here. Let's take you back home!"

***

November 26th, 3:47 p.m.

George didn't want to leave Cecily alone right away in case the owner wasn't home, so they agreed on a cue. If she heard someone coming to the door, Cesse would quickly flip around and throw him a wave goodbye. Which was what happened.

The door opened just as George's car was pulling away. On the other side of the door was a blonde woman in her mid-30s, wearing a light blue sweater and matching jeans and socks. When she saw them, Cesse barely had time to get a word out.

"Uh, hi there," Cesse began to introduce herself, holding the dog in her arms. "Is th—"

The woman gasped and threw open the outside door, almost knocking Cecily right on her tush.

"Weenie!!" she cried euphorically. "Oh my gosh, my baby!"

She bounded out the door and took both Hollaweenie and Cesse in a great big bear hug, ostensibly indifferent to the fact that she was squeezing a now scraggly, disheveled, utterly unkempt 34-year-old homeless person. Cesse thought she heard the woman begin to cry. When she released them, she indeed noticed the tears in her eyes at the return of her beloved pet.

Cecily let the happily panting, tail-wagging Hollaweenie down. He scampered into the house. She wanted to cry a little herself.

She chuckled. "I guess so!" she confirmed.

The grateful owner took Cesse by the hand. "Thank you so very much, ma'am! Please, please, come in!"

Cecily was a bit surprised the woman was so eager and unhesitant to bring her into her home.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course! You found my baby! You have no idea how grateful I am!"

The owner led her inside. Cecily felt obligated to at least remove her shoes at the entrance. She was debating whether or not to come right out with the truth about herself when the woman spoke again.

"My goodness, I have been OH so scared and worried thinking about what could have happened to my poor Hollaweenie," the owner confided in her. "You don't know how happy I am right now that he's all right. My relief is immeasurable. He's my world."

Her words and true emotion made Cecily feel so good inside. This was starting to turn into the best day she could remember experiencing in quite a long while as well. She watched with charmed eyes as the owner played with the dog: tossing a ball for him to go fetch and bring back, teasing him with a feather on a string, taking his front paws and dancing with him and so forth. Cecily could easily tell the owner missed the dog to tears and was far beyond elated to have him back. One reason she could tell this was because she almost forgot her visitor was still there. Cesse wasn't sure if she should stay or go.

Then she remembered: Oh yes. The, eh...reward.

Not that she wanted to presumptuously come right out with it. But hopefully this could afford her a nice dinner, possibly a place to stay for a night or two...

In the meantime, she was still a little worn out. She wanted to sit down somewhere, but she didn't want to spread her dirtiness to the lady's furniture. She also desperately wanted something to eat—or drink—but again, she didn't want to assume hospitality. She watched the woman cheerfully frolic with Hollaweenie, wondering how to go about this.

Excuse me, Miss, I'm homeless, could I just, kinda...?

No.

"He, uh, he came up to me in the park," Cesse called. "I had fun with him too. He brought me a stick and we played fetch."

The owner turned back to her. "Oh, yes! Of course!"

She was about to remind herself out loud that she mentioned a handsome reward in the lost poster, but she regarded Cecily up and down in the short meanwhile, and another thought took the wheel in her mind.