The adventures of Phynneas

AT LAST-Phynneas the dog is happy to be homeMy name is Phynneas. I'm an eight-year-old wire-haired rescue terrier and I'm the most lovable and friendly dog you will ever meet.

Seven years ago my master was terminally ill and my mom and I drove two times daily to the hospital in Santa Monica. One day, my mom left me alone in the car. A stranger camebroke into our car and carried me away. My mom was heartbroken. She drove to every animal shelter, hired a pet detective, advertised and searched everywhere for me. Two days after my master died, friends reported seeing me on TV up for adoption from an animal shelter.

Mom rushed to the shelter on Thanksgiving Day, not even realizing it was a holiday. A young man answered the door where Mom hysterically banged on it. She showed him a picture of me.

"We sold that dog last Tuesday," he said. Come back Saturday and speak to the supervisor."

Saturday morning Mom was back, speaking to the supervisor. His reply to her was, "I hear sob stories like that all the time." Mom was crushed and cried for weeks.

Two days before Christmas she was listening to her answering maching when a woman's voice asked if she was the owner of a dog named Phynneas and gave her a number to call.

"Yes," the caller replied when Mom called the number. "He was darting back and forth on the freeway when I stopped to pick him up. Three times he was nearly hit. I took him to the shelter as I have four Rottweilers and they would have had him for lunch."

She gave Mom the phone num

ber of a shelter in Phoenix, Ariz. Mom left immediately for Phoenix. After driving all night, she arrived at the shelter, just as they opened.

When she told them that her dog had been dognapped in Santa Monica 43 nights ago, they laughed at her. Whatever would possess her to think that her dog would be at that shelter?

She walked the length of two of the four wings examining the dogs on each side. Nearly at the end of the third wing, there I was, curled up, ignoring the barking of the other dogs. Mom knelt down and called my name. Slowly I lifted my head and there she was, tears streaming down her face as she reached to touch me.

I was ecstatic. She ran to get an attendant to lme out. All the staff calleme a Christmas miracleWe left loaded witdoggy toys and food. Mom was happy and I slept in the back seat all the way home. We had a great Christmas that year.

Phynneas' story was submitted by Carol Holmes of Malibu.