It was a typical Saturday. The weather was nice and we had just arrived back to the house after a trip to Oklahoma City.

My dogs, Carmen and Scout, immediately needed outside upon entrance to the house. I left the door open and let them out as I have done hundreds of times. I put my bag down and followed the dogs into the yard. No more than 30 seconds could have passed.

I step outside and I am greeted by Carmen, my little brown Chihuahua but Scout, my white Chihuahua mix is nowhere to be seen. I yell for her and she does not come. I walk around the corner of the house and she is nowhere in sight.

The neighbors across the street are outside playing baseball and come over to

tell me they saw my dog run down the road. I begin running in that direction looking and yelling for Scout. She does not come. I return back to the house and she is not there.

The evening quickly developed into driving and walking around the neighborhood yelling for Scout and looking everywhere imaginable. Storms roll in and it begins getting dark and I am frantic and heartbroken about my missing dog. We printed fliers up and started putting them around the neighborhood and talking to people sitting outside, and in nearby stores getting the word out as fast as possible about my missing dog. We made several Facebook posts and placed them on garage sale sites, lost and found sites and anywhere that would allow a missing dog post. We had friends share them on their personal Facebook timelines.

Night completely falls and I still do not have my dog. I am in shambles, losing hope and expecting the very worst. Could someone have taken her?  Did she get hit by a car? Was she trapped somewhere? Every bad thought crossed my mind about what could possibly be happening to my dog.

I eventually cried myself to sleep and was startled awake by a phone call at 5:19 a.m. from the Face-book Messenger App. (I didn’t even know this was possible). She had been located! But this rush of good news came with a jolt of bad news. She was found but she had been hit by a car. My heart sank.

I immediately contacted the girl who found her and she was quick to respond with video footage of Scout lying comfortably in a bed, scared, but okay. I brushed my teeth, put my shoes on and with pajama pants, baggy shirt, messy hair and tear stained makeup made the trip across town to get my dog.

By 5:30 a.m. she was back in my arms, but wounded. It was obvious that she was unable to walk or stand. Her back end sustained some pretty bad damage. Her leg was cut down to the bone and she obviously needed medical attention.

Scout was taken to the emergency vet in Enid, sedated and examined. Her pelvis is broken in 3 places, her hip is dislocated and very badly damaged, but miraculously she has no internal bleeding or broken ribs. She is being referred to as The Miracle Dog by the vet and the lady who found her. She has a long road to recovery and will likely always walk with a wobble; but this will just be one more quirky thing about this funny little white dog we call Scout.

Scout is spending a lot of time with me here at the newspaper office to make sure she doesn’t walk or move around and she is perfectly happy with all of the attention she is receiving.

The power of a community to come together (that community being a bunch of strangers on an online network) to bring a dog back home and get her proper care is something to be noted.

It is also easy to believe the worst in people (which I clearly did) when in reality most people are good!

Thanks for getting my girl home and on the road to recovery.