hen Mary Kathryn was in her twenties, she lived on Wilkins St. with her two Bernese Mountain Dogs. One morning, just as she let them into the backyard, someone in the neighborhood set off a firecracker. Faith was so terrified that she was able to bolt through the privacy fence and evidently ran until she was completely lost. We put ads in the newspaper, on the radio, in the veterinary clinics, frantic for her safety. Someone stopped my car as I was hunting her and told me it was interesting to him that “all of Jonesboro was seeking Faith.” Mary Kathryn had several calls, one from someone who had her but had left her to go to her car to get a leash and Faith ran away! Another called from the Jonesboro Sun saying she was on the loading dock but they didn’t detain her. The next call was telling us she had been seen at Trinity Church, but when I got there and called her she ran again. Out of ideas, I called Betty Hinson who reminded me that everyone was using Faith’s name to call her, and she was becoming more and more afraid. She suggested the next time we heard she was seen that we take a food that smelled strongly of something she loved at home. Mary Kathryn made her special peanut butter fudge.
On Sunday morning, I was so worried about Mary Kathryn that I left for awhile and went to church – communion was being served in the chapel. When I returned to Mary Kathryn’s, we heard a horn frantically honking in her driveway. In the car were Bess Lykins and Betty M. Sloan, the most unlikely persons to recognize a lost dog. They were on the way to church and spotted her going into the wooded area off Wofford St. Mary Kathryn and I hopped in her car, taking Prince, the male companion, with us and a big square of peanut butter fudge. I walked into the woods with Prince and just talked calmly to him, breaking off pieces of the fudge. Faith came hesitantly to us and with my hand on her collar and Prince on his leash, we walked out of the woods. Mary Kathryn had been driving around the block trying to spot Faith, and when she saw us she told me later she thought the sight was a mirage. There were hugs and tears and when we pulled into the driveway, John was outside to greet us. We had someone at the house during those days to answer the phone, always hoping the next call would be good news, and that had been his shift. We had put her blanket and toys on the front porch so she would recognize them if she found her way home, another hint from Betty Hinson.
Our dogs are such precious companions and show the very meaning of unconditional love. Her presence in our family is a memory we all cherish.