Billie the Cav Spaniel found her way back

[JustAnotherGen]

To her humans.

Just a reminder of the power a Canine has to heal the hearts of humans. I could not imagine having my Uncle Ruckus (Maltese Monster and Overlord) lost and on his own.

Honestly though? She's very Dog Napping worthy/

https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/billy-the-spaniel-abducted-on-oct-7-reunites-with-her-family-in-kibbutz-nir-oz/ar-AA1D2Kn2?ocid=BingNewsSerp

[BobTheSubgenius]

1. Happy ending animal stories - especially those of pets - always hit me right in the feels.

[JustAnotherGen]

2. Me too

I feel like the world is really dark right now. Dogs don't know political parties, religion, race, gender . . . they just know who loves them.

[slightlv]

3. When I was a kid, we had a black part Gordon Setter.

I absolutely loved that dog to pieces. Nothing had gotten into my heart like he had. But he had a bad habit of taking off on a smell and roaming all over town (we lived in a very small town). Evidently there were complaints and eventually Mom and Dad decided to give him to some people who lived over 100 miles away from us in another small town. To say I was heartbroken is an understatement. I don't know that I spoke to my parents for days, and was always bursting out in tears at the drop of a hat.

A couple of months later, this black dog was seen wandering around the area, and sure enough, ended up on our front porch. My dog was home!!!! Instead of being overjoyed, my parents called the people and they came and picked him up again.

A few weeks after that, my dog was back on the front porch barking to be let in. This time when my parents called the folks, they said "keep him"... he doesn't belong anywhere but with you. The local paper did a write up on his journey (I still have that article in my memory box!), and no one ever tried to make my dog go away again.

He was a huge part of my life until my late teens, when he was hit by a car and died. A part of my innocence died that day, too. I've got a coterie of cats I've rescued, and have dogs I've rescued, too. My current canine was adopted from the pound once a month for three months, until we adopted him. Three years later, he's still with us and yes, he DOES drive me crazy. He's even broken my leg once while out on a walk. But he's found his forever home. Still... I think back to those days running around with my little black dog, exploring everything... and then settling down to sleep at night with him at the end of my bed. And I still miss him. But never doubt a dog's love. If there's anyway possible, they WILL find a way back to their person!!!

[BobTheSubgenius]

4. Lovely story! Bittersweet at the end, but still heart-warming.

During high school, I had a friend whose family had two Samoyeds. BEAUTIFUL dogs!!!

Sunny lived up to his name - happy, friendly, and never a problem. Sam, OTOH, was kind of an ahole - he wouldn't lunge for you or anything like that, but if you put a hand too near, it was going to get bitten. One day, company came, and they had Sam locked away - behind 3 doors in the basement that the daughter, who had been there before, was thoroughly admonished to keep well away from.

So, naturally, that was what she did at first opportunity. And, predictably, got bitten. Not super-serious, but his teeth broke the skin. Parents freaked out, and managed to alienate themselves for life from my friend's family by pressing the matter into court, at which point, Sam got a death sentence. I mean, I understand their anxiety over this, but come on - these people were supposedly good friends, and the girl had a huge part in her own injury. It was, in my mind, akin to needing to tell her not to drink bleach every time she came over.

Two years later, they got a call from the people that had moved into the flat above their grandmother's former salon, to where this big white dog had wandered. As I said, it took him 2 years, but no one knows how he escaped (probably sold by an SPCA worker) or how long that odyssey took him. He managed to find his way from almost the extreme east of Vancouver, to a spot even closer to the extreme west. Literally miles of trackless urban wilderness that held no scent trail whatsoever, but he somehow made it, and lived out the rest of his life with the family.

That was as close to an animal miracle as I've ever come.

[slightlv]

5. That's how I felt about Blackie... a miracle on 4 legs.

As a young toddler, I was told not to bother a friend's cocker spaniel. Pup did NOT have the temperament to be around kids. And of course, like the girl in your story, I found him and kept trying to pet him. He bit my eyelid of my right eye. Mom said I cried for a few minutes and then just kept yelling, don't hurt the dog. It was MY fault. The two families had been friends for generations, knew the history and medical condition of the dog, and we all let it slide and I learned a very valuable lesson at a very young age. I still bear the scar on my eyelid to remember that blonde cocker, tho. (LOL)

I was such a soft touch, that one time my grandfather took me and my brother fishing with him. I didn't want to go, and sure enough the first fish he caught I gave him a hell of a scolding for one my age... for causing that fish to hurt himself on that sharp hook, drag him out of the water, and then throw him back in like he meant nothing. Worse, he'd come prepared for squirrel hunting, as well. And he did get a squirrel. My grandmother said it took months before I'd even go into a room if he was in it... and more than once I called him a "murderer." I'm not totally opposed to hunting, if there is no other way for a family to feed itself. I just feel like it's cruel in today's world. I'm all but a vegetarian... and I -still- don't eat fish! because the cruelty of taking a gentle life kills a bit of humanness in us, IMO.

Don't get me wrong! I'm not opposed to guns or afraid of them. I was the American National Sharpshooter in my teen years in the 70's, and retained a sharpshooter title throughout my time in the Air Force. Of course, today I couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. But a gun is a tool of last resort, to me. Don't ask me about magas, lol.