When Shinzan ran away

A few days have passed. The adrenaline has subsided and our little world is back to being right once more.


I write this because there are some of us who have dogs that never run off. Some of us have dogs that always run off and then there are those of us who have dogs which run when scared, threatened or just caught a really delicious scent and decided to follow it, forgetting they have a human.
If you have never experienced this count yourself lucky, if you have in anyway shape or form you have an idea on what Im writing about. Its heart stopping and world ending, and the fear that your dog won’t return is a startling wake up call questioning everything you ever thought about your relationship with your dog. Then there is this “bond” that everyone talks about. Having a “bond” with your dog is precious and I never really fully understood it or if I ever had it with Shinzan. Now I know. It’s real. The great escape of Choanji proved this.

Shinzan is usually the last point. He has run starkers across Kanzaki beach after jumping out of the car with no lead, collar or harness or he’s caught the scent of a deer and bolted up Choanji Temple Mountain. Again starkers. He has always come back to me. Sheepish mixed with a little cheekiness deep down I know he’s sorry he’s run off and lets face it – Ive turned him boujie. My beautiful, formally wild, dog is now boujie.

Until Thursday 29th June 2023: 12:20~12:30


The day started off as any other. We were at the beach, Shinzan had had his run, eaten his breakfast and it was time to freshen up and tidy the car. He was in the shade, attached to the car by his lead and harness, he also had his collar on – so fully dressed. The sun was burning down slowly cooking us into par boiled lobsters. I turned and saw black clouds ambling over the western mountains and packed up the car to bunker down with Shinzan. What happened next I was unprepared for.
A large clap of thunder reverberated over the top of our car, Shinzan ran in front of the car, wrapped around a bush or tree and yanked hard. He pulled himself out of his harness, took one look back and ran. 
Less than a second later, a deluge and I lost him. Gone.

Before I carry on, I want to explain my next actions. 


Before I adopted Shinzan, and even after, I watched a tonne of dog training videos on You Tube. I consulted with experienced dog owners in my family and I had previously worked with large prey animals that spook and bolt at the mere hint of a sound they don’t like (horses). So I understood what, in theory, I had to do if Sasuke ran off. Thing is. The dog training said that if your dog won’t come back to you then you are not exciting – so jump around and make yourself fun. That is an error with Shinzan as he thinks it’s one huge game and runs off further. No. With Shinzan, you have to do the opposite. Like a horse, you have to be calm, patient and uninteresting all the while keeping your voice upbeat and friendly. Experience gained the painfully hard way taught me this. It also taught me to trust in Shinzan that he will always come back and that he is in fact: A Good Boy.

Seeing him bolt at the clap of thunder and completely scared, I collected an emergency harness, lead and my phone. Closed the car doors and walked in the direction I saw him go. The problem with a deluge and continuous rolling rumbling thunder is that you can’t see your hand in front of your face, let alone any thing beyond yet I kept looking calling his name, saying phrases he knows and heading west. To the west is construction of the sea defenses, toilet, shower blocks and covered seating areas. No dog. I asked a worker, in their car in broken Japanese if they had seen Shinzan – showing them a picture on my phone. They hadn’t and promised to keep a look out even after the storm had passed. A surfer asked if I was ok and I asked if they had seen him or saw which way he had run. No luck. My shoes were filled with mud, sand and water. I looked like a drowned skinny rat and still no sign of Shinzan. Perhaps he doubled back and ran east? Into the town maybe… I didn’t have a clue. Suddenly everything was overwhelming and hopeless because of the unending possibilities of where he could have been.

I turned back and headed east, walking along the entire promenade as the storm was abating, sun burning down once more. No dog.

Sun shining again I was hopeful I could find him, coax him to come back with really strong smelling ham. I asked everyone at the beach along the west side: Fishermen, dog walkers, visitors. Nothing. No one had seen him. I carried on walking east, sand and mud causing my feet to blister while the sun was literally baking my skin into a shiny red color. All the while the fear and dread eating at me that if he had turned and gone east I had lost him for good because its Maizuru mountain range. Collar or not he would never be found. 


An hour quickly turned into 2, then three then a friend and her family helped me file a police report. The police said they could do nothing. I contacted ARK. I had to teach at 16:00 so I searched right up to the start time, compromising with myself by keeping the car doors open, changed in to dry clothes and taught English until 18:00. During my classes it thundered, deluged and blustered through the coastline and I silently cussing the weather as I taught. Immediately after class I was back out onto the promenade, through the trees, calling around the toilets and shower block to the construction site only to turn around and head east.

Again.

And again. 

And again until it got too dark to see literally anything.


At this point Shinzan had been missing for over 7 hours. The sun setting, put a stop to my active search, the fishermen had long gone along with the locals and visitors back to their home, so I sat in the car waiting. Using strong smelling ham to try and entice Shinzan back home, I changed into waterproof clothes and bunkered down fearing to sleep while being eaten alive by mosquitoes (days on and it still looks like I have had a bout of chicken pox).
I didn’t sleep, wondering where he was, not being able to stomach anything to eat or drink, fear keeping me awake. When I did doze off I had horrific nightmares that he was injured and I couldn’t get to him; I would jolt awake again. At 2:48am I heard a jingle of collar tags. I know that sound anywhere. I softly called for my boy and nothing. Silence.

4:00am Friday. No Shinzan


The sun rising at 4:30am I had already been up and out searching along the west side of the coastline for half an hour. Again around the toilets, showers, the construction site and the houses closet to the beach. I took his breakfast, I wore appropriate boots, water proof clothing hobbling along with blisters and sunburn calling his name carrying his emergency lead and harness in optimism he would come back. The silence deafening, the ocean too big, too ominous and the mountains, copse and beach overwhelmingly depressing.


What had I done? I had lost my dog.

What do I do? 

Sit and cry? Throw a hissy fit? Scream in despair? Call Shinzan? Get angry? All of the above? None of the above. 

After heading east as far as I could go, I met a friends partner walking their dog – still no Shinzan and for the third time that morning I turned around and headed back west. Each time I swung by the car to check on the food I had left there just in case for Shinzan and nope. Still there.

I took one slice and sat on the steps and ate my breakfast, talking to my mum on the phone. After the call I walked back towards to the covered seating, some locals now up and about talking their Shikoku dog barking away, as always. Although this time his bark sounded off. Not his usual reactive bark, I remember thinking “huh thats odd” and nothing more of it. I sit. Im exhausted, my brain doesn’t know what more I can do. I have walked along the coastline for 3 hours the morning alone calling him, shaking his breakfast for the scent to disperse and nothing. I am about to absolutely give up and go back to the car to sit and solidly cry.

I stand, turn and in the shower cubicle staring straight at me are a pair of almond eyes, a fox like snout curled up on himself and who is matching the color of the shower cubicle.


I HAVE FOUND HIM!!


I approach with caution, calling his name and he looks up relief in his eyes and I hug him close. As I hug him I check for any injuries – underlying and surface and nothing. He’s damp, collar absolutely saturated, clearly scared, withdrawn and hungry by the way he solidly ate his breakfast. I contact every one who has helped me: ARK, my friends, the police, the locals and the construction workers. I wanted to say thank you to the fishermen but they never returned.

I put his emergency harness on him, pick him up to help him stand attaching his lead also. What became very apparent very quickly was that Shinzan was completely disorientated. He had no idea where the car was parked (I never moved it form the day before) and he had no idea where he was hiding.


It wasn’t that he ran off and didn’t want to come back home – he didn’t know how. The thunder and rain, bouts of lightening and strong winds completely throwing off any scent and direction for him to even try to orientate himself. He must have heard me calling by the showers and decided to bunker there but for how long I don’t know. He wasn’t there the numerous times I past searching for him. He was out in the rain, his collar still so thoroughly saturated yet he was damp almost dry so he had clearly been out in the rain. It had stopped raining around about the same time I heard a collar jingle and it didn’t rain again.

I don’t know if it was a coincidence, if the other dog was reacting to Shinzan’s presence (separated by about 20 or 30m) or what but as soon as I had found Shinzan, the barking stopped.


Shinzan’s disorientation became even more evident when his tail started to wag when he realized I was taking him back to the car. He was so happy. My relief – both our relief – evident. I have never wanted to sleep so much as I did then. We sat in the car together until reality called and we had to return to get ready for teaching in Kyoto at the weekend.
We haven’t been apart since and as I finish typing this, he is curled up by my side. Ears tickling my wrist, snoring away ever content my gorgeous boujie boy.

So what to do if your dog runs off?
*Stay calm.
*Don’t chase after them but calmly collect a harness and lead and slowly walk after them.
*Call their name but don’t shout it. Use a tone they are familiar with thats associated with something positive.
*Carry stinky smelly food and smother yourself in that scent.
*Keep to a routine:
*Have prepared, or prepare their dinner at the time its normally eaten and take it with you while you look for them. Shake it to disperse the smell and entice them back.

*Call the police, file a report,
*Call ARK: notify them. I called them pretty much 2-3 hours after Shinzan ran. These were not normal circumstances for us and Shinzan wasn’t being cheeky. He was scared and a scared run away is different to streaking across the beach in a playful manner. You know your dog.
*Talk to as many people in the area as you can, get contact details. Thank them once your dog has been found. They will be happy for you!
*Walk the way you saw them run and then widen the search area.
*Keep access to a known safe place open for your dog if they can return on their own
*You won’t want to but I can definitely tell you that you will need to eat and drink. *Have the belief that your dog will come back. I always tell Shinzan that no matter what happens I will always find him. And I did.

We hope this helps in some small way.