Happy tails (Or, we meet again)

Scientists have discovered that it takes about thirty days to build up a habit. Thirty days is about a month, and we took care of and loved six tiny beagle babies for two months. With the information given above, it should come as no surprise to you, gentle reader, that it was hard, very hard, to watch our little troublemakers (for there is no use denying that they were troublemakers) leave for their new homes.
Viola was easiest, as her family lived only a few streets away, with a large yard near a park. Sebastian's new home remained in town, though a bit farther away. Orlando went to a town about twenty minutes drive away, making him the farthest out of the pack (aside from Miranda, a border hopper, and soon Grover will head up north to join Reganite :'(  but I digress). As loving puppy parents, we hoped to see them again soon, or perhaps receive updates over the e-mail account we had set up for them, but the inbox has remained empty.
In July, Big Dude went into the vet for his yearly check up. Everything was fine, the vet informed me, except that he was beginning to 'square out' a polite term for 'getting fat'. Apparently our casual strolls about the block weren't keeping off the chub, and we were advised that daily exercise would do him a lot of good. At first I started taking him out every morning for a run beside me on my bike, but when an incident occurred involving high speeds and a stinky post that he just HAD to stop and sniff, we found ourselves grounded. So we began long, speedy walks done to the nearby park, passing en route a certain large backyard with a small beagle inside.
Yes, nearly a week after beginning these walks we saw little Viola, or Maggie, as she was now called. I allowed Big Dude to stop beside her fence. She saw him, and her tail went up as she let out a classic beagle bay. He saw her, and slowly, then faster, his tail began to wag and he let out a tiny whimper of recognition. It took a few days before she would come up to the fence and say hi to us, but soon she ran up as soon as she spotted us walking by. Once her little girls were out playing with her and recognized Big Dude, saying hi and proudly telling us that she had graduated her puppy class.
In August we took Puck and Grover in to the vet to get their first heart worm medication and flea and tick goo. A few seconds after walking in the door I noticed a young boy sitting on the waiting bench. He looked familiar, but I shrugged him off as a Church acquaintance perhaps, and focused on getting the puppies weighed. While Puck was on the scale, I heard what I thought was Grover barking in one of the examination rooms. Surprised, I checked Grover's position and found I was wrong. Oh well. We sat down to wait for the vet techs to get our meds, and after a minute a woman walked out of the back rooms and smiled at us.
"Hi, I think we bought a puppy from you?"
In a flash it came back to me. The little boy was the same one who had been given Orlando as a birthday present! "Yes!" I said, "How is he?"
"He's great," she assured me, and from the back room I heard his excited baying. We didn't actually get to see him, but that brief encounter left me very relieved. Orlando, now called Jack, was in the hands of vets we knew and trusted, sure to return to the neighborhood and perhaps to be seen again soon.
Early in September I took Puck in for his puppy shots and while there asked the vet if she had seen the others. She replied that she'd seen Jack (which I knew) and Maggie (which I didn't know) but as yet, no sign of Sebastian. I wasn't worried, there was more than one vet office in town, but I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed.
The nineteenth and twentieth of September marked the six month birthdays of our little pack of pups. To celebrate, Bird and I walked Grover and Puck down to a park in a gully. It was very beautiful, and the long walk did a marvelous job of tiring out their boundless energy (Grover, though biggest at birth, has not developed his brother's barrel chest, and begged to be carried up the last hill to the car). On the second day we repeated the walk. Just before the point where we had pre-decided to turn around and head back, we noticed a man walking a dog towards of us. I noticed it was a beagle, and for a second a little flame of hope flickered inside me. Sebastian? But no, from a distance I could see that he was young, but big, too big.
"Is it?" asked Bird as the puppies began their usual round of barks at the newcomer.
"No," I whispered in reply as we drew closer.
Suddenly the young beagle bayed, jumping up on his hind legs and thrashing his tail wildly. The man paused, and our respective puppies began barking at each other and sniffing noses.
"I think we sold you this puppy!" gasped Bird, looking into the deep, soulful, unmistakably Sebastian eyes.
"Yes, I think so," came the reply.
"Roger?" Bird asked, remembering Sebastian's new name.
"Yes!"
So it was confirmed. He had defiantly recognized us, although the brothers seemed to have forgotten him, or perhaps they were confused by his new scent. We nearly squealed with joy, we were so happy to know that all our little chillins were safe and happy. Hopefully we will see them all again soon!