‘The fear is that you’ll stop one block too soon. So you keep pushing.’

Pat Enkema of North Hollywood was a Pierce College biology professor until she retired in February. She now spends much of her time searching for her “field - trip helper.” Ralph, a brown and white Australian sheep dog, has been missing since October.

It was a normal Friday. I put the two dogs in the car. We were going to the park to do a run, and then we were going shopping afterwards. When I went to the grocery store, I took their collars off and put them in my pocket because I don’t leave them in the car with their choke collars on. I did the marketing and was driving down Chandler.

At the Laurel Canyon intersection, a truck ran a red light and hit me broadside. We weren’t going fast, but I was in a Beetle and he was in a big truck. My knee was broken. The people who were waiting for the bus opened the car door and said, “Lady, are you hurt?” Ralph, the dog in the back seat, jumped out onto the sidewalk and took off. The little dog I had with me in the front seat stayed right with me.

Within two minutes the ambulance arrived, and I had a quivering puppy in my arms, and the other one lost. I gave a young man some money and said, “Would you keep this dog until my daughter can pick him up?” I had just been to the bank. I gave him another 20 dollars and said, “Would you see if you can find Ralph?” He said, “I’ve go to get back to work.” He had one wiggling dog in his arms.

By that time the paramedic said, “Lady, we have to go.” So they took me into the ambulance and I never saw Ralph again. That was Oct. 17, high noon, on Friday.

We decided to put ads in the papers, and we put up a few signs at supermarkets and on corners. The following week, a lady called us from Burbank Boulevard and Corteen Place and said, “Yes, I had your dog that first night. We found him and took him in. But when I took my three little Yorkshire terriers out at night for their walk, he took off into the darkness. But I had your dog. I would put out signs in this neighborhood.”

So we made up a new batch of signs and Nancy, my daughter, took me, totally immobile, and drove me around and put up more signs in that area. We made 75 signs, but then we found that, since they didn’t have any picture, we’d get calls about all kinds of dogs, young dogs and puppies. We looked at spaniels and even an Airedale. Ralph was an 11-year-old Aussie. We had a photograph enlarged and put it on our next sign and had 150 printed up. That didn’t go very many blocks, So I had 250 printed up.

The funny thing about signs is that you think, “Well, I’m going to stop here. This is so futile and silly.” The fear is that you’ll stop one block too soon. So you keep pushing. Then you come back home in the afternoon and say, “This is really ridiculous.”

I would like Ralph back simply because I’ve had him for 11 years and taken him through dog school and trained him. He was my field-trip dog. He was the right size, and I could pack him up with my sleeping bag and we would do desert and mountain field trips.

I’ve seen so many dogs in so many pounds since October. Every week we’ve visited all the pounds, driving the freeways to Castaic, out to Thousand Oaks, East Valley, West Valley, Burbank and Glendale. I’m going to continue going to the dog pounds because summer is a time of flux. People move and go on vacations. Maybe he’ll show up. There are some wonderful docents and helpers at the dog pounds. One of them told me that a man who checked the pound every week found his dog after four years.

At least 50 people have called in eight months’ time. On Sunday, we don’t dare go out because we know that’s when the papers come out. A lady from Sylmar called and said, “You’ve lost your dog. I’m sorry. I don’t have your dog, but can I give you one of ours?”

It has been an enriching experience. There’s a lot of warmth out there, and that’s what really gets to you.