Every night Sam disappears at about 10:30 or 11. I used to get in my car and try to find him. Once or twice I found him chilling his heels in a cage in Rocamadour or Gramat. He has chewed his way through three leashes and two collars. I replace the tag with my phone number on his collar very other day, though this is hardly necessary as everyone within a 20 kilometer radius of Rignac seems to know Sam now from his "Perdu!" posters.
Who knows where he goes but he is home in the morning, once with a suspiciously bloody mussel and this morning with a limp. He then spends the day recuperating in what used to be the Art Gallery, but now is referred to as the Opium Den.