Gone Guy
Tri-City Tales Issue No. 41
On the sunny afternoon of December 31, Brenda Gonzalez stopped by her sister’s house in Cedar Hill. She was dropping off a few things before heading to their mother’s nearby to get ready for New Year’s celebration.
It was supposed to be a quick stop. Brenda had her poodle mix Rex with her. Rex was always with her. She’d had him since he was a puppy, and with no kids, she doted on Rex like the only child he was.
Around 3 pm that day, she let Rex out into the back yard to use the bathroom. She went back to check on him a few minutes later, and discovered that a side gate was open. She dashed into the street and called his name. She stopped everyone she saw walking: Did you see a small black dog? No one had. She jumped in her car and started driving around the neighborhood, her window open, calling his name. A panic began to wash over her—her sister’s neighborhood backs up against Highway 67. She feared the worst.
When she didn’t find him in the first hour, she called all her relatives in the area to come search. Though she lives in Grand Prairie, she’d grown up in Cedar Hill and most of her family still lives close. They arrived and fanned out like a Rex SWAT team, some on foot, some in their cars. They looked until 3 am, and returned at daybreak.
There was no sign of him. On New Year’s Day, the Tri-City Animal Shelter was closed, but Brenda drove there anyway and pulled around to the back. She figured someone would be there to feed the dogs. She flagged down a staff member, and asked someone to please keep an eye out for Rex.
Days, then weeks went by. She checked the shelter every day. When she wasn’t at work, she was searching for Rex. On days she couldn’t get out, her boyfriend took over, or friends and family. They put on hiking boots and searched all the woods near her sister’s neighborhood. She posted fliers. She joined every neighborhood message board she could find. She asked the postman in her sister’s neighborhood to share a photo of Rex in the work group chat. She even hired dog trackers. A month passed. One frigid January night, the temperature dropped to 8 degrees. Brenda didn't sleep. All she could think about was Rex out in the cold, by himself.
On the night of January 29th, at almost 1 am, she got a text from someone who said they had just seen a small black dog on their street. She had her pajamas on, and debated whether to go into the chilly night after so many false leads. But she and her boyfriend decided to drive back to Cedar Hill.
They searched each street near the tipster, and were about to give up when Brenda went down one last cul de sac at the edge of the neighborhood. Her boyfriend shined a flashlight—and there he was. He was looking bedraggled, but she recognized his blue collar. “It was like seeing a ghost,” she said.
And then, Brenda said, “we did everything they say not to do.” She ran towards him in excitement, and shone a bright light in his eyes. He scampered away. They searched in vain for two more hours. Finally, Brenda tearfully made plans to come back the next morning, leave food, set up a game cam—anything. Before they left, she turned to her boyfriend and said, “How crazy would it be if he is back at my sister’s house?” They turned down her sister’s street, and sure enough, saw Rex. This time, they moved slowly, and called his name. He stopped, and they gently scooped him up.
By then, it was a couple of hours from dawn. She waited up and took him immediately to the vet to make sure he was okay after his ordeal. She called the shelter to tell them the good news—and on their advice, took him in that morning to get chipped. (And for a joyful welcome home celebration.)
Rex is now back to his old self. The only difference Brenda has noticed is that he will immediately eat all his food when she fills the bowl. He also has a newfound interest in the trash can. While the shelter staff was not the ones to find him, Brenda feels grateful for all the moral support she got from everyone – and her family and countless strangers-- over the month Rex went missing. “They were always so kind,” she said of the shelter. Even employees she had never met, when she walked in the door would say, “Are you the lady looking for Rex?” She was never going to give up, and she knew, neither would they.