Hunting for the elusive Bigfoot

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I put Bigfoot -- our miniature pinscher -- outside to do his business just before giving baby Sikwan some supper. When I went back 10 minutes later, he was gone. Someone left the backyard gate open.

I called him a couple of times but there was no movement; it wasn't like Bigfoot to stay outside. It was cold out, dark and starting to snow.

Bruce got back from a burger run a few minutes later.

"Bigfoot's gone," I said.

"I guess you got your wish," he said.

He was referring to the online ad I put up a day or two earlier.

The Kijiji ad listed Bigfoot as a dog needing a new home, but it was half-joking. I was testing the waters. Was there a patient, lonely spinster out there in need of a high-strung lap dog? Likely not.

We've had Bigfoot for more than five years. He was supposed to be my son's dog, but quickly took over my life. My mom was working up north and got Bigfoot for us from a friend who couldn't keep him anymore.

Bigfoot was a year old and kept running wild with the other rez dogs. He was wreaking havoc, chasing adults and kids alike and getting into peoples' garbage.

So we took him in. I taught him English because my Ojibway is terrible, and realized the huge commitment a little dog can be.

Bigfoot is a 10-pound terror.

In the ad I was brutally honest about his attributes.

I warned people about Bigfoot's penchant for nipping at strangers, relieving himself in his kennel or on plastic bags, barking madly at people, cars, bikes, cellphones, guitar playing, television voices, doorbells, timers, and faraway noises.

Over the past year he's developed cataracts, though he's adapted well. The vet said some of his problems are likely because he's a puppy mill product.

In the ad I didn't mention Bigfoot was from the rez, or fluent in Ojibway because some people are rez-phobic.

But he is fixed and licensed. Perhaps his looks are his most endearing quality.

I got a lot of inquiries about Bigfoot despite my honesty. One person warned there are scammers who pose as good candidates, but just want dogs for fighting. Even little dogs.

Still others sounded promising.

It's been tough with the new baby and taking care of Bigfoot, too. Thus the online ad.

Now Bigfoot was missing and I wasn't feeling good. What if he chased a car into traffic?

Time was of the essence. I threw on some runners and went looking for him.

I checked around the back then made my way down the block to where he usually goes when he escapes.

"Bigfoot!" I yelled as I walked. Then I'd listen for his bark. I had to yell loudly because it was windy.

I wondered if this could be the work of a Kijiji dog thief.

It was cold. I rushed out wearing a nursing tank top, jogging pants and a cardigan. I looked like a poorly dressed Bridget Jones running aimlessly around in the winter snow.

Then I heard Bigfoot's bark in the distance. I yelled his name, and listened again. Yep, it was him, and he sounded like he was on the next block.

But when I made it there, he was nowhere to be seen.

I must have been a sight, considering the weird stares I got from the other North Enders while running up and down the streets yelling "Bigfoot!"

I walked around for half an hour. Once in a while I'd hear a wisp of a bark, so I'd race off yelling his name in that direction.

But then even the far-away barks stopped.

I went home to warm up and face the reality that he might be gone for good.

I'd made a mistake.

It's hard sometimes to care for Bigfoot, but not so hard that I can give up on him. How can you blame him when he doesn't understand what he's done is wrong?

I haven't had the time or patience to invest in him lately, either.

He's survived a rough start and didn't always learn good things. But it isn't right to give up now.

Then as I opened the door to head out again, there he was -- standing there on the steps, like nobody's business.

Bigfoot found his way home, despite his cataracts.

Needless to say, the ad came down. We'll take it day by day, I guess.

Colleen Simard is a Winnipeg writer.

colleen.simard@gmail.com

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition December 3, 2011 0