It really was a dark and stormy night. And I was ... home alone. (Except for the cat, Mr. Rogers).

I was listening to the Braves on the patio radio when the announcer broke in to say heavy weather was approaching. Minutes later, God broke in with a thunderstorm that felt like a dress rehearsal for the end of the world.

In minutes, the temperature dropped 20 degrees, the backyard creek overflowed its banks, and the neighborhood was pounded with windblown limbs.

When the storm passed, I was happy to be alive. I wanted to share my joy with Mr. Rogers. She wasn't there. (Yes, Mr. Rogers was a Miss. You don't argue when the kids name the pets.)

I figured she'd been scared by the storm and sought shelter in a favorite hiding place.

By midnight, she hadn't come back. By daybreak, she was still missing. I couldn't skip work for a cat hunt but told the kids if she wasn't back that afternoon, a serious search would take place.

When I got home, the gloomy looks told me Mr. Rogers remained missing.

I rode up and down every street in the neighborhood, hoping against hope to find a gray tabby looking dazed and confused and ready for a ride home.

I never saw a sign of her. Days passed, then weeks, and we finally accepted the painful fact that Mr. Rogers wasn't coming back.

It hurt, but these things happen. Pets go missing every day. Most pet owners go the extra mile searching for their missing pals.

When Mr. Rogers disappeared, I thought I did a decent search. I know plenty of pet owners who have done the same, with good results and bad.

But most searches pale in comparison to the efforts of a family in Bristol, England, that has taken the notion of lost pet searches to another level.

Louise and Jonathan Baltesz and their kids were devastated recently when their Labrador retriever, Simon, went for a stroll and never came back. Since Simon was known to frequent nearby picnics, barbecues and trash bins looking for treats, the family scoured the dog's favorite spots but came up empty.

As the search continued, spirits sagged, but the family refused to fold. They finally consulted a canine behavioral expert (no kidding) who suggested marking a trail that Simon could follow home.

Unfortunately, the canine behavioral expert did not recommend marking the trail with bread crumbs or bits of burger. He told the family to mark the trail with their own urine.

The grieving family did just that, dribbling a trail of tee-tee over hill and dale in hopes of leading Simon back to his own backyard ..

Thankfully, the family did not mark the trail using the natural spray or squirt methods. Instead, they "collected" urine in bottles, diluted it, and spread the pungent potion on lampposts and trees leading home from spots where Simon had allegedly been spotted.

At last report, the dog was still gone. That's too bad. I know how hard it is when a pet goes missing, and I hope the pooch comes home soon.

So far, cops have not received any complaints about the trail-blazing effort, but you can bet some of the locals didn't exactly enjoy watching the Baltesz family "mark their territory."

When Simon comes home, I know he'll be showered with love. But if the family cares as much about their neighbors as their dog, they'll put up a fence.

(Send your e-mail comments to: alex@ newnan.com.)