Shiloh's Missing!

If you haven't already discovered this from the title of this post, Shiloh has gone missing!

Zoe and I got off the bus yesterday at our stop, and we raced home like we always do. We let ourselves in the front door and grabbed some cookies from the cupboard, and sat down in the living room to do our homework.
After a few minutes of scribbling answers to math problems, I got the feeling that something was wrong.
"Zoe?"
"Yeah?" she responded. I struggled to find the reason for my unease. As I was puzzling it over, it suddenly hit me.
"Zoe, where's Shiloh?" I asked, suddenly anxious. She looked up at me, shocked.
"What?"
"He always greets us at the door," I said. "Today he didn't."
"Maybe Mom just let him out in the backyard," Zoe suggested, leaving the book she was reading for English on the couch and getting up to search.
We peered out the window that faced the backyard, but saw nothing but a gate dangling off its hinges. I aimed a panicked look at Zoe.
"Okay, don't freak out yet," she said, but I could tell from her expression that she was about to start doing just that.
"I'm gonna call Mom!" I cried, running into the kitchen and picking up the phone. I dialed Mom's cell number and waited impatiently for her to pick up.
"Hello?" I finally heard on the other end.
"Mom?"
"Charlotte?" she responded. "Are you and Zoe all right?"
"Yes, yes, we're fine," I answered. "It's about Shiloh. Did you let him out in the backyard earlier?"
"Yes, I did," she said, sounding bewildered. "Why, Charlotte? What's wrong?"
"Well, the gate's off its hinges and Shiloh's not in the backyard."
Silence fell on the other end of the line.
"Is this a joke?" Mom asked, her voice strained.
"No, this is not a joke!" I cried. "He's missing, Mom! What are we supposed to do?"
"I don't know," she said. "Wait until I get home to do anything. I don't want you girls wandering around alone in the woods without anyone at home."
"Then get home soon," I told her, and hung up. I turned to tell Zoe the bad news.

It was a depressed silence that hovered over the living room as we waited for Mom to get home. I read the same word problem over and over to myself without absorbing a single letter of it.
Shiloh's not the youngest dog in the world, I thought anxiously. What if he forgot the way home? What if he's lost out in the cold and the dark?
A loud bang! startled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see Mom standing in front of the now-closed front door, her forehead creased with worry.
Without pausing, Zoe and I leapt up, grabbed a couple of flashlights, and pulled on coats, boots, and gloves. Mom made sure we took a cell phone with us, and told us that she would stay home in case we ran into trouble. Zoe and I ran out into the night.

We came home three hours later, our throats sore from calling and our fingers and toes numb with the cold. Mom gave us a hopeful look as we walked in the front door, but it turned to one of concern when she realized that Shiloh was not with us.
I couldn't fall asleep that night. Shiloh always slept at the bottom of my bed, and the silence left in the absence of his slow, even breathing was eerie.

Shiloh went missing five days ago. We've put up flyers all around our neighborhood, but so far no one has called to tell us they've seen him.
I'm beginning to get really worried. What if he never finds his way home? Mom told me that we could go to the pound and pick out another dog, but I told her that wasn't going to happen. Not for a while, at least.
  Have you ever lost a pet? Did they find their way home?