Later the dejected dog sitter and I sat around the lovely big kitchen table and drank hot mugs of coffee. Then the phone rang, and luckily the knocking on doors had payed off. Off she drove to a house about 5 minutes away by car. The missing dog was enjoying a bowl of Bran Flakes.
I don't have a brilliant picture of the runaway pooch, so this will have to do I intended to discard this picture because it is slightly out of focus but you can see what a delightful layed back dog she is.
Got any Branflakes
The French word for flee is fuir.
The French word for lost is perdu.