Duke is a very handsome, very sweet dog, a Redbone Coonhound. He’s also a hunting dog who likes to go, well, hunt! We have three acres and two other dogs and Duke’s the one who’s learned to get out, in fact, it’s happened quite a few times. He has a chip, a tag and a collar but this time he lost his collar. We live in the Santa Cruz mountains, semi-populated and heavily wooded with redwood and oak trees. When he’s out in the woods, in the wilds, I call the usual people he travels to when he’s off exploring on his own. Then, lo and behold, I get an email: “We have your dog.” Woah, alright! Turns out he was running around on the road and a Good Samaritan took him to a clinic where he got scanned. We got Duke, drove him up to where we live and fixed yet another hole in the fence. He’s so sweet and sensitive, he’s like a big baby. I’ve figured out his escapades coincide with weather changes and it doesn’t help that our German Shepherd chews Duke’s collar off in wrestle and play. At least with the chip I found out where Duke was and that he was safe within hours of going missing.