Saturday, April 23, 2022

Counting up losses

Cocoa, our standard poodle, disappears without a trace into the forest during our Thursday hike. Our friends help us search for her for hours every day. We offer a high reward so the kids of the surrounding villages are looking for her, too.


This is, as we say, "A Week!!"

The fridge is still out. W swaps in bottles of ice and runs a fan inside to keep a few things cool. We're haven't heard a thing from LG about the new tech board they said they'd order. Nothing from their technician either. So the fridge is somewhat cooler than room temp but still off after a week and a half. 

We write "do not open" on the doors so the helper doesn't go searching inside. They rarely cook for us during Ramadan since they're not eating. We order a cheap lunch or have ramen most days.

Tuesday

The yardman and PakG find a small poisonous coral tip snake in our driveway.

It flips over to show its underbelly when touched. And it is soon disposed of.

Wednesday

Some workmen are redoing the drainage ditches along the main street nearby. They cut the mud and rocks out with picks and shovels. Piles of dirt sit on the side of the road, washing into the street every time it rains.

By the end of the week, they're setting a concrete "U" in place and covering it with another concrete slab. All the way down the street. It creates a narrow channel for the runoff from houses and pavement. We'll see what happens when it really rains ... which it does often.

With daily afternoon downpours, this Japanese tea from Sayaka hits the spot. Many people ask for prayer this week - there's "a lot going on" with their health, finances, and relationships during this season.

Thursday

We go up past Dusun Bambu for our weekly walk in the mountains. It starts to pour rain. Most of us have raincoats so we pull them on. About 20 minutes in, I whistle for the dogs who trot ahead and scare off critters and snakes. Gypsy runs back to us as usual but Cocoa's nowhere in sight. 

We call and whistle for her. She's normally glued to Gypsy's side and comes running back with him - but there's no answer. W, Maddie, Max, and I trek back uphill along the rock path; the dogs were running on the dirt beside the trail. Nothing.

There's no trace of her - and Gypsy is no Lassie. The dogs know two commands for sure because they always result in treats: "Go find" (retrieve a toy or ball) and "Go search" (sniff and find food or treats.) If they haven't found everything, we say, "where is it?!" with urgency and they go back to look some more.  

When we tell Gypsy, "Go find Cocoa," "Where is Cocoa?!" and "Go search, where's Cocoa?"  he doesn't point or sniff any area in particular and doesn't run in a direction. He jogs nearby as he aways does. I keep whistling and everyone is calling her name.

The group comes back up from the waterfall to call and search together. Angie, Kristi, and I head downriver along the bank and through the jungle. With rain falling, the river churns along but there are eddies and calm spots all along the bank. If Cocoa fell in, we hope she can pull herself back on shore.

We climb, call, and whistle. I'm glad I have my walking sticks to stab into the slick mud as we slide up and down the trails. The rocks and roots we climb over are slippery with water and moss. Some of the bridge are coming apart but they hold as cross over and cross back on the path. By the end, we've done 72 flights of elevation and 7 km.

And no response. Finally, we meet the others at the car. Most go home but Beba, Maddie, and Max head for the other side of the river to call for Cocoa and notify friends who live nearby. W, Kristi and I spend a few more hours on the roads on both sides of the river, asking people if they've seen Cocoa or someone taking her away.

We offer them a sizable reward if they find her so the young villagers and teens head into the mountains to search the jungle and trails they know well. They go out today, Friday, and Saturday. No sight of our beautiful doggie.

Friends and hashers (trail runners) spread the news on social media. Many continue to check online to see if someone captured her and is selling her online. We get no news, other than 2 spam texts (promo for an expensive witch doctor who casts spells to find pets; and someone wanting to do our house renovation. Ugh.) We go to bed with heavy hearts.

Friday

In the morning, our friends comb the hills again for the missing Cocoa. Elizabeth (the wonderful breeder who shared her with us) creates a poster. Alice gets a stack of those laminated at the printer and we post them everywhere: in the hills, villages, near the pet market, and neighborhoods. Other friends and hash groups are watching for her and monitoring social media.

We leave home at 10:45. While we're in language class, W and Gum go to the pet market, talk to vendors, and post notices. We walk the neighborhoods and ask people if they've seen her.

Kristi and I beg our language teacher for a review day. My head is too foggy for new info. It's very useful and reminds of what we've learned already and how it can be used. I'm just throwing together sentences that make sense in context but aren't the rote conversations we're learning.

We review the Q&As. When asked to respond to: "Ibu Kristi has spilled water on her legs," I say "She should get a towel." Nope, the correct answer us: "Give her a dry rag"... 

I try again with the only thing that comes to mind. "A dry rag - run!" The teacher bursts out laughing. It would be my first response to our kids: "Run, get a towel!" My head's just not in the game.

To finish, we write numbers. Three hundred forty two million, five hundred three thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine. You can imagine how long it takes us to write the numerals. Then we spell the words. We muddle through and say aloud what we've written one more time.

We're home about 3:00. The expat supermarket where everyone used to post notices (#TokoSetiabudi) has refused to let us put up a poster. Boo. They will have a lot of traffic this weekend.

We make lunch and spend the rest of the day monitoring media and answering texts. No one has seen Cocoa. Elizabeth is most helpful with her ideas and we get other good suggestions. We pursue them all. And go to bed exhausted. 

The God of heaven and earth who made the creatures knows where she is. We appeal to him for the safe return and comfort of our doggie, along with many friends who are praying.

Saturday

Up early, we walk, talk to people, and share more posters with neighbors who have connections in Lembang, where Cocoa disappeared. W goes to the pet market before and after a lunch appointment. The vendors promise to call him if she shows up. Pray with us - she's a senior who deserves a peaceful retirement.

Our other two dogs stay close to us. Gypsy lies down in Cocoa's usual spot, watching for his buddy.

Read more:

*Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will declare what He has done for my soul. I cried to Him with my mouth, and He was extolled with my tongue. If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear. But certainly God has heard me; He has attended to the voice of my prayer. Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer, nor His mercy from me! Psalm 66:16-20

*I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. Psalm 143:6

*Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate; it may be that the Lord, the God of hosts, will be gracious.Amos 5:15

*Live as children of light—for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true. Ephesians 5:8-9

*Let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift. Revelation 22:17

Moravian Prayer: Lord of hosts, when the difference between right and wrong becomes unclear, bring to light the injustices that keep us from a true and heartfelt worship of you. Living Water, fountain of life, flowing stream, buoy our vessels. May your blessings equip us to be “agents of your transforming love in the world… through spiritual growth, community, and mission.” Amen.

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