Aurora’s Spring Break
- allpawsreunited
- May 5
- 3 min read
Aurora. Is. Home. 🐾🏡
We got the call Saturday—heartbroken pawrents 💔, desperate for answers. Aurora had slipped away on Tuesday, apparently taking her own version of spring break. There were a few sightings, but nothing solid.
As always, we started with questions… and a map. Patterns. Terrain. Cover. Sometimes you can almost feel where a dog will go. This one pointed us to a nearby school—surrounded by wheat fields and just enough tree line to disappear into. It doesn’t take much for a dog to hide in plain sight.
Amy with Topeka/Lawrence Dog Trappers responded, and soon she and Aurora’s pawrents spotted her along the edge of the woods. That first sighting? It’s overwhelming. Every instinct says to call their name, to run toward them, to believe they’ll come.
And then you see it…
Survival mode.
Your dog looks at you… turns… and runs the other way.
Time for a new plan.
Amy set a feeding station in the sighting area, working in scent attractant. Not quite as magical as rotisserie chicken—but it carries well on the wind and along the ground. Then we waited. Aurora wasn’t interested.
By Sunday evening, I headed out, hoping hunger might shift the odds—if we could find her. Amy spotted her again, lying along the tree line behind the school. At around 100 pounds, Aurora needed our largest trap, paired with a custom remote trigger. We brought everything: stinky food, scent spray, rotisserie chicken. The full playbook.
Normally, curiosity wins.
Not Aurora.
For six hours—from 6 PM to midnight—we watched each other. A silent standoff. I knew we couldn’t leave the trap overnight with school in session the next day. And Aurora? She had chosen her ground well—tucked into a corner with a fence behind her and lights in front. Safe. Smart.
Monday evening, she wasn’t out in the open. Not surprising with school activity. I reset the trap where she’d been bedding, hoping she’d return. Then I took to the air.
Drone up.
With FAA clearance secured, I began sweeping the area. First pass—nothing. Second pass—expanded north along the tree lines. Still nothing.
Then—movement.
A man walking his small dog unknowingly changed everything. As he moved along the tree line, I held position with the drone, watching. I had a feeling…
There she was.
Flushed from cover, Aurora broke west into a wheat field—completely hidden from ground view. Without the drone, we would’ve missed her. She was just 50–75 feet from the trap.
I tracked her for nearly half a mile as she moved south into dense woods. Water nearby. Good cover. A smart move.
Now the question: when would she come back?
A third flight confirmed it—she was staying put, deep in the woods.
Mom arrived. Time for a new plan.
We left the trap at the school and headed south. The landowner gave permission (huge thank you), and we moved in quietly. No pressure. No noise. Low, slow, calm. And yes… rotisserie chicken in hand.
We reached the edge of the woods where she had entered. Through the thick brush, Mom spotted her. Aurora shifted deeper at first, unsure. So we adjusted—looped around to the east side.
Soft voices.
Kneeling low.
Patience.
And that chicken did its job.
Aurora stepped forward… and walked straight into Mom’s arms—talking the whole way, letting us know exactly how she felt about being found.
Slip lead on. Short hike out.
Aurora was going home. 🏡
Happy, happy day.
Welcome home, Aurora. 🐾❤️
Now… you’re grounded.
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