The Lost Dog: Soul Of San Miguel

By Maureen Phillips

My dog Gabriel and I left Vancouver, BC, on September 18, 2025, for the long and much-anticipated drive to San Miguel in my trusty 2002 Toyota Camry. We arrived in this beautiful town sixteen days later.

But one month into our stay, everything changed. Walking in our San Antonio neighborhood, Gabriel was startled by a dog snarling and lunging behind a large door. Gabriel jumped into the street and was hit by a motorcycle while I stood frozen. He ran up Stirling Dickinson like a cheetah. I screamed for him to stop, but he had disappeared. The motorcyclist had fallen off his bike but got up, so I knew he was okay. A young man ran up to me and asked for the leash, saying he’d run and catch him. Another young man asked me to climb onto his motorbike and we’d chase after him. We searched along the Ancha and the busy intersection near City Market, but I had no idea which way he had  gone. When the young man with the leash returned, apologizing for not finding him, I saw that Gabriel’s collar with his ID tags were dangling from the leash. He had no identification at all and no way for someone to grab onto him. I felt sick to my stomach.

What happened next revealed the soul of this town. I immediately posted on the San Miguel Facebook group asking for help. One woman said she’d seen him hit by a truck and thought he might be dead. I nearly collapsed after reading that. But others were more encouraging, posting where they’d last seen him. One person even posted a photo of him running hell bent for leather along the Libramiento. Friends moved quickly. Kirsten made bilingual posters; David and Rose rushed me to the printers to get 100 copies. All my helpers kicked into action, taping Gabriel’s poster everywhere in the neighborhood. David and Rose took me to the radio station where my message was broadcast, offering a reward. Gabriel is a trained therapy and medical alert dog who warns me when my blood pressure spikes—ironically, his disappearance sent it dangerously high.

Two days after Gabriel went missing, a woman I’d met at a search party the day before texted saying she was outside and offered to come in and light a candle for Gabriel. I invited her in, and she built a small altar (including his collar) and told me to leave the candle burning overnight, which I did. Jessica Princess Pea is an extraordinary woman.

The very next morning, my phone rang. A man on the other end was speaking Spanish, so I opened the front door and called out to Silverio, our caretaker who was working in the courtyard. He took the phone, then conveyed to me to grab my keys. We drove toward Malanquin, following directions from the man on the phone. Then I saw them: a woman holding a skinny, bedraggled, burr-covered dog, and a man beside a motorcycle. I ran to my dog, and he pressed his tired head into my thigh, as if to say, “Where have you been? You have no idea what I’ve been through.” We lifted him into the car and told the man to follow so I could pay the reward.

Then we immediately went to PetVet where X-rays remarkably showed no broken bones. The wonderful Dr. Alma gave Gabriel intravenous hydration and some pain meds. His paws were red and raw from his long-distance run, but I soothed them with fresh aloe vera David brought from his garden. Gabriel settled onto the sofa, closed his eyes, and didn’t budge for 12 hours.

Later on, I texted his rescuer, Gil, and asked how he had found him. He said he spotted him at Bodega Aurrera and recognized him from a poster he’d seen. Gil followed him on his motorcycle, staying with him so he wouldn’t get run over, and finally managed to catch him near the Malanquin.

My heartfelt thanks to all of you who helped bring my Gabriel home safely. I will never forget your kindness and invaluable support. It took him about three weeks to fully recover, and now he’s back to his usual bouncy self. Me? I’m almost there.