The Husky was owned by a farmer who wanted to get rid of the dog because he was killing his cattle. Someone in our town heard about the situation and contacted the farmer. He agreed to hand over his beef-loving Husky, happy in the knowledge that the girl lived a good 40 miles from his farm. She brought the Husky home and introduced him to her other canine, a Bernese Mountain dog. They did the standard doggie meet and greet and took off playing like they'd been best buds since birth. She left them in the back yard to get acquainted. That night when she went to check on the pair, the Husky was gone; no detective work required to discover what happened to him. He'd left a sizable clue, as in a deep hole freshly dug out under the fence. The rescued canine had fled.
"You lose that dog of mine?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
" 'Cause he's sitting right
here looking at me."
That Husky had walked/run all night and reached what he knew as home before the sun rose on another day.
The farmer and the girl made the swap again and as of today, the dog is still at home #2, thriving on a low cholesterol diet of doggie kibble.
A month later the man comes home from work to find his dog sitting in his back yard. It took the terrier one month to travel the 45 miles to reach his home, and other than losing some weight, the dog was fine, totally unharmed.
Upon meeting each other, the parrot gives the vet a thorough look over and speaks. Nothing as ordinary as "Polly want a cracker?" (couldn't resist that one either!). Nope. This parrot introduces himself. 'I am Mr. Yosuke Nakamura', he says, and recites a street address. Thinking the chatty avian has done nothing more than rattle off something he overheard, imagine the officers' surprise when they discover not only is the address is valid but it's that of the parrot's owner. Smart bird, and what a smart owner he had, teaching Mr. N. its name and address. (Wonder why the parrot didn't give up his residence stats to the law enforcement officers?)
140 days later.
It's afternoon feeding time for the family's other cats but they aren't eating. Instead, they're all huddled together watching a scrawny orange tabby, ribs sticking out, paws swollen and raw, scarfing down their cat chow, acting like she belonged there. Because he did. Took her more than three months and hundreds of road miles to get back, but that little orange tabby found her way home.
(The photos I used in this post aren't of the animals in the story, but from a free photo site)
Do you have an "Incredible Journey" story of your own, or have heard of one?