Minutes after I took this picture of the dogs doing their routine check-ins (usually in exchange for a piece of chicken or home-made pork meatballs) Maxwell disappeared. Poof. 

The advantage of fresh snow is that you can see evidence, and up ahead I found moose tracks, with dog tracks following. The moose tracks didn't appear to be fresh, but I knew they were recent because it had stopped snowing about 5pm the previous day. Then further along, moose tracks crossed the trail once more, and there were frozen droppings, again confirming for me that the moose travelled through much earlier. But never mind, Maxwell had clearly followed the tracks, and he wasn't coming when I called. And I couldn't hear any jingles from his collar. 

We continued along, and Maggie ventured off in to the trees a few times, then would come back to the trail, ears perked, nose in the air. Hmmmm, either she was trying to figure out where Maxwell had gone, or she was also interested in the scent of the moose. A few minutes passed and there was still no sign of Maxwell.

After waiting for a long time, and calling and calling, I decided to carry on down the trail. Sometimes if the dogs get sniffing in the trees they'll eventually pop back out. I kept looking back and all around, but still no sign of the little bugger (his new name at that moment). Even Maggie was starting to look concerned. 

We arrived at the lake -- finally out of the trees and into wide open space. Being on the lake also the advantage of sound carrying uphill, so I kept up with the MAAAAAAXWEEEEEEEL call. Still no sign of him. No jingle from his collar. Hmmmm. 

Next decision: carry on, or go back the way we came. At this point I was getting cold, Maggie was getting ice chunks in her paws, and we both needed some breakfast. I decided to continue on the lake instead of the trail back the house. That would take about 45 minutes instead of 90. I phoned Bob and told him to open the gate in case Maxwell arrived before us. I was pretty sure he would find his way home pretty quickly unless he was in some kind of trouble (like last time). Bob alerted neighbours that Maxwell was missing, and to keep an eye out. Several, in turn, alerted more neighbours. We have quite the supportive network in our community!

After I arrived home Bob set out in the truck to see if he could spot Maxwell on the lake or surrounding roads. He drove around, asking any passersby if they had spotted a black and white dog. During that time I warmed up and ate breakfast. Bob returned home with no good news. 

Bob was again on home duty -- thinking it would be good for one of us to stay by the phone and on the lookout. I put on my snowshoes and headed down the trail with my neighbour, Jim. 10 minutes later Jim's daughter, Corinne, called to say Maxwell had been spotted on Ridgemont Road. This is approximately a kilometre or so away, and a place where he had one been once before. Corinne reported that Maxwell looked spooked and wouldn't come anywhere near her. Nevertheless, this was GOOD news! 

Bob got back in his truck and drove up to Ridgemont. I assumed that would be the end of it. Maxwell would see Bob, and he would leap into the back seat as he always does. The truck is his favourite thing! But it seems Maxwell was moving too quickly -- making his way through a back yard and onto the trail again. Bob and Jim tracked Maxwell's route and saw that he hesitated when he got to a fence, but went right through it. After that point his tracks were lost in the many other boot and snowshoe stomps, including my own because I swept through the same area after Corinne's phone call. 

How strange that Maxwell could be so close to home, yet not be able to find it! Why had he ventured up to unfamiliar houses? Is his sense of direction and smell that bad? Couldn't he hear us calling him? We were really puzzled by this point.

Again we returned home. And again Bob went out looking for Maxwell, this time on snowshoes. I was layering on more clothes in preparation for my next shift when I got a call from friends, John and Colleen, who were part of the "Maxwell phone network". They had spotted a dog that looked like Maxwell out in the middle of the lake (don't worry, it's frozen!). John called him, but *surprise*! Maxwell looked spooked and wouldn't come. (And John is someone Maxwell sees every week at the dump, and gets amazing treats from him!) Bob and I connected by phone, and he set out on the trail in the direction of Maxwell. 

So almost 7 hours later, Maxwell had been found. He was SO EXCITED to see Bob. Maggie and I went out on the lake to meet them. Despite being completely exhausted, Maxwell had enough energy for kisses and a little tumble with Maggie on the way home. This was a route and routine that he had done MANY times before. 

I still think about that day and wonder why Maxwell wasn't able to find his way home. We've had a million off leash outings since then, and while he might disappear for a few minutes into the trees, he always comes back to me. 

Was he lost? Was he so freaked out that he couldn't think? We'll never know.