IT WAS -2 degrees at 3 a.m. on January 20, 2025, when I let my Pomeranian, Peach, out. I watched at the door. She stepped off the porch into the snow—then something caught her eye, and she trotted out of sight. Odd, I thought as I threw on a coat and boots. In the two minutes it took me to get outside, she vanished. For three hours, I trudged around my North Central subdivision, frantically calling her. As the sun came up, I gathered a search party: my adult kids, a family friend, and a neighbor. The latter, a hunter, looked for her tracks in the snow leading away from my house but didn’t find any. We combed the neighborhood until we couldn’t feel our faces.
My instincts in those initial hours may have made matters worse. “Resist calling your lost dog’s name,” says Kherri Clements of On The Run Lost Dog Recovery in Hamilton County. “When do we yell our dog’s name? When he’s done something wrong. He’ll think he’s in trouble.” Dogs who’ve been out for even a short time can revert to survival mode and instinctively run, even from family. “If you spot your dog, but he doesn’t come right away, quietly sit down and toss out treats,” suggests Clements. If your dog is microchipped, let the company know he’s lost. If you can’t find the records, go to petmicrochiplookup.org. Regardless, file a lost dog report with shelters and veterinarians within 20 miles.
Most important, Clements insists, is not only posting to your social accounts and the Nextdoor app but also hanging flyers within a 2-mile radius. Peaceful Souls Animal Rescue & Recovery recommends brightly colored signs with a big photo of your pet. Write only “Lost Dog,” “Do not chase,” and your number. Never include your dog’s last known location or offer a reward.
Why? That encourages people to search. “If dogs feel like they’re being hunted, they get farther away and better at hiding,” warns Clements. But do ask neighbors to check their video doorbells for sightings, encouraging them only to “be on the lookout.”
After the second subzero night passed and a third was approaching, I was resigned. Peach had either been taken by a coyote or frozen to death, and it was my fault. I put away her food bowl because I couldn’t bear to see it. My daughter made eggplant parm, urging me to eat. I picked at it, reassuring her that I was OK and she could go out with her friends. But that night I sobbed so loud and so long that my son, a hardboiled sort, texted his sister. “Mom crying. Idk what else to do. Can u come home?” She did, with a friend’s idea: Put Peach’s bed outside. Skeptical, I laid the pink plush cushion she liked to nap on at the far corner of my icy porch.
I woke the next day to a call from a neighbor: “I think I saw Peach, running, a block west!” As I flung open the door, Peach was just stepping onto the porch. Her fur was caked with ice and had dried blood on it, but she scampered over with the same “pick me up” expression she always wore.
Panicked dogs, I have since learned, default to navigating by scent. Peaceful Souls confirms that a bed, blankie, or an item of clothing from the hamper can act as a beacon. Was that what guided Peach home? Our vet speculated that based on the nature of her wounds, an owl tried his luck carrying her off. But I’ll never know where she was or how she found her way back.
Clements cautions against relying on an AirTag to find a lost dog. “A real GPS that communicates with satellites requires a subscription.” If you want to go that route, Clements likes the Life360 Pet GPS Tracker. But first things first: Never let your dog out alone—not even if it’s 3 a.m. and bitter cold.
If You See A Lost Dog:
Post the sighting to indylostpetalert.com, noting the day, time, and cross streets. If the dog comes to you, go to a vet or animal shelter for a free microchip scan.
