Zeus is found

Our vet called yesterday to report on our old Lab Lilli's bloodwork, after her annual checkup on Saturday. She's in good health, for a dog of roughly my age in dog years. So am I, come to think of it.

Our other  pooch, Angel, had already passed her physical with flying colors too. Then, Dr. B asked about Zeus, her other gravy train patient.

Zeus is our very domestic and defenseless feline, who'd never spent a moment outdoors before slipping out behind our backs some time Friday night. He still hadn't turned up as of yesterday morning despite flyers, a Craig's List ad, and an autodialed plea to 250 of our nearest neighbors.

But at the end of our morning walk, Angel spotted something in the culvert under our driveway. I got down flat on the ground and finally spotted two beady eyes deep in the narrow blackness, out of reach but within pleading range. An hour and a half of coaxing later, through intermittent rain, with the tireless assistance of neighbors and solicitous strangers, and just before the firetruck arrived, Zeus rejoined us.

Dr. B, the alt-med vet, took un-billable credit: "I've been praying for him."

I'm giving Angel the real credit. She was just doing what dogs do, in the presence of cats. Perfectly natural. But we're all grateful, all the same.