Karen Tucker, 68, shares the remarkable story of how her missing dog came home:
Driving through the New South Wales outback I checked the signposts.
Seven hours to go, I sighed.
It was May 2023, and my husband, Gary, 75, and I had spent the past four days showing our dogs at the Broken Hill dog show.
Now, I was driving home with our 15 prized show dogs in the trailer, including some of our most expensive dogs, Baxter, our Chihuahua, and Mishka, our Tibetan spaniel, who had won best of breed.
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For safety, Gary was driving behind me, and my friend, Jo, was in front.
Just then, as I travelled at 80km/h, I spotted a pothole. I carefully skirted around it, but suddenly, I was thrown against my seatbelt.
The trailer had caught the pothole and flipped over – taking the ute with it!
Landing upside down, I slammed against the roof, smashed glass twinkling around me.
“Karen!” Gary yelled, running over. “Are you okay? The ute rolled three times.”
“I think I might be trapped,” I managed to say.
“The nearest town is 70km away, but help will be here soon,” he assured me.
“Don’t worry about that,” I cried. “How are the dogs?”
“Some have scattered. Jo is rounding them up,” Gary explained.
Eventually, I was cut out and taken to ICU.
“Jo got all the dogs and she’s driving them home,” Gary told me later.
My shoulder had come out of joint, but docs said it would heal naturally so I discharged myself the next day, keen to see the dogs.
At home, I raced to the kennels.
That can’t be right… I thought. We’re two pups short.
Panicking, I called Jo.
“Where are Mishka and Baxter?” I asked.
“Oh my God, I thought I had them all,” she cried.
My stomach dropped.
Both dogs weighed under 5kg and were only 25cm tall – how would they survive in the outback?
“Let’s go to the crash site right now!” I sobbed to Gary.
There, we walked for hours through the bush, calling their names, until night came and forced us to a caravan site.
“This area is full of eagles, snakes and lizards that would make a meal of our babies,” I said to Gary, hysterical.
“We’re going to find them,” he insisted.
The next morning, we plastered the town with ‘lost dog’ signs.
Eventually, the pain from the accident overtook me and we reluctantly went home.
From there, I turned to social media for help. We even hired drones and gyrocopters.
As often as possible, we made the 14-hour return trip to the crash site to search.
Locals even put out treats and water, too.
The months that passed were miserable, but we never gave up hope.
Then, we waited.
In October, Mitch called.
“We got Mishka,” he said. “She seems mighty happy to see us.”
She’d snuggled right into Mitch’s arms.
Gary and I wept with joy when we saw the picture Mitch sent.
My amazing hubby set off that afternoon and drove all through the night, arriving home with Mishka at dawn.
“Mishka,” I choked as she leapt into my arms.
We got our vet to check her over.
“Other than losing some weight, she’s remarkably healthy for five months in the outback,” she said.
We think she was probably chowing down on bunnies and kangaroos, as well as the snacks locals left out.
We’ve got Mitch a surprise as a thank you that we can’t reveal just yet!
Now, we hope our baby Baxter will follow her home.
As Mishka proved, miracles happen.
Donate to the search effort at www.gofundme.com/ f/help-for-finding-dogs-and-ute
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