As dogs will, Willy escapes from his backyard and runs off, and as domesticated pets do, he misses his home come nightfall. Slinking away from a raccoon and a rat, lost Willy sniffs his way to the school that ""his boy and girl"" attend, to the supermarket where his family shops. . . and meanwhile his people cry and wait. (The tears on all four faces are a nice touch.) Finally at one in the morning they all get into the ""beautiful blue car"" and go looking for Willy--and what do they find? "". . . not a little dog with a foxy face and a cocky, dancing tail and prancing toes. Oh no. They saw a damp little mop, head down, tail down, sad and chilled. But it was Willy!"" This seems deliberately cast in the classic tradition of runaway dog adventures, but it comes off as merely a reasonable facsimile. Maybe it's partly Willy's lack of spunk--but next to, say, Harry the Dirty Dog, he just doesn't show.