We parsed all neighbourhood, put up Rusty’s pictures, looked everywhere fruitlessly and finally returned home at night.
The eight year old birthday girl was drenched in tears. Poor girl, had such a dreadful evening! I tucked her into bed and proceeded to cleanup the gift boxes lying around. Lo! There he lay, cuddled up in one them, snoring peacefully. We all breathed a sigh of relief, it was a happy birthday gift indeed!