Dear Berkshire Community, 

It's now been four weeks since we were made to realize the palpable community spirit very much thriving throughout our larger community.

A picture of the recovered Marcy from her lost-and-found posting on Facebook. 

In early December you might recall the powerful three-day snowstorm and below-freezing conditions that hit the region stronger than most in recent memory. As a lover of winter and snow that first morning I took pictures and sent them to family who I hoped would see some snow when they came for Christmas.

We happen to live only a few houses away from Bullard Woods so as with most days I planned to take my two dogs for a walk in the forest and Gould Meadows, but the beautiful, fresh snow lifted that to excitement. Marcy is 13 1/2 and Freddy is 12 1/2. We got them many years ago as adult rescues. They are the joy of my daily journey in nature.

For the past few years Marcy, especially, has lost weight regardless of what we feed her. So for the past few years I became that guy who shows up to the woods in cold weather with big dogs bundled up with a first layer
of reindeer sweaters (including antlers), a second layer of parkas, and their harnesses fitted snugly around both those layers. More poignant, this was to be one of Marcy's first walks back into the woods since her eye removal (due to a tumor) only three weeks prior.

Every day Marcy tells us when it's time to eat … not so much Freddy. When it's near 4:30 p.m. she begins hopping, pacing and whining. I was leaving at 4 p.m. for our walk. Therefore, that day my wife thought I should take a short walk not only because it was almost time for their dinner but she felt more conservative than usual about a shorter walk considering Marcy had only recently recovered from surgery. 

Given the snowy conditions I was alone that afternoon in the woods except for one person I saw later on. I let the dogs off leash to play in the snow and they loved it. They trotted around, sniffed, and had fun. It would be dark soon so we would be heading back shortly. Then it happened. Marcy, in a rare moment, started trotting away, tail up, happy, but toward home, a route she knows perfectly well. I called her, but could tell she was on a non-stop path home anticipating dinner.

To reach the road before her so she didn't get hit by a car in the storm, I quickly leashed old Freddy and began running up the direct path to the street making sure Freddy wasn't getting too exhausted. From our hurrying I was confident we would arrive at the street first. Phew; no cars were anywhere due to the storm. But no Marcy either. I jogged down the road calling. Nothing. I guessed she must have made it to the house somehow before we did so I ran to the door knowing she would be barking and waiting. Not there.