Dear Editor,

On Dec. 10, 2022 your newspaper kindly published my Letter to the Editor concerning my lost Basset hound. Rufus, age 1, went missing from Barnesville on Nov. 5.

It’s now been three long, cold months, 10 days and eight hours since Rufus disappeared from the backyard of his home in Barnesville. Although immediate action was taken — a dog tracker, posters, flyers, postcards, calls to all shelters in the state, visits with the local police, knocking on doors, walking and driving every road in the area — there has not been one valid sighting. Not one.

Initially people called to say they knew of a house where a Basset could be seen running out into the street. There indeed was a Basset hound, but not Rufus. An oil worker thought he knew of someone who may have spotted him and picked him up, but that person has not been located.

And because Rufus is listed on more than 25 lost dog Facebook sites, some that cover the entire U.S., his name is out there. What has come as a shock along this journey are the calls from scammers saying they have Rufus. All I have to do is procure a code number that arrives by text, which they will relay to the person holding him. And Rufus will be returned. Of course ‘costs’ are involved.

When those calls and texts came, my heart was in my throat. I fell for it like anyone else who is desperate for news of their missing pet. It is crushing, absolutely beyond belief, that there are individuals who prey upon the heartbroken and have no qualms about bilking folks out of thousands of dollars. Thankfully, before I agreed to an arrangement, someone else with a missing dog warned about a similar scam in upstate New York. Her story caught the attention of broadcast news. I’m hoping more people won’t get impacted as this scheme is made known.

Then there are the hate calls and text messages. One woman suggested I drop the search and picture Rufus bonded with his new family. “Time to move on,” she said. Another came up with the name and number of a visionary whom I did call and she was very dismissive. After a couple of vague premonitions, ‘I see him in a dark house close by,” she wasn’t interested in helping further. When I did call her again, she said, “Rufus is dead to me now.” A man called at 1:30 a.m. using obscene language and claimed he knew Rufus was dead. Yet another caller said he’d probably drowned.

How can it be, when someone is imagining the worst but hoping with her entire heart for the best, that swindlers and really terrible people take advantage? It sounds cliche, but how do they live with themselves?

It is disheartening yet I continue to hope, to search, to believe that there is goodness in the hearts of the people and someone will bring him home to me. Where he belongs. This is my land and you are my people. I know so many of you. I was born here. My parents lived and worked here. We consider our neighbors to be treasured friends.

My roots are deeply buried here and I know the caring that happens when someone is sick or needs a ride to the hospital: we pull together. I believe my little town, my county, my neighboring states, do care. And I believe someone knows. Someone cares enough to speak up. And someone will bring Rufus home.

Diane Jefferis

Barnesville