Near midnight, Charlie appeared in Marika Olivier’s backyard. Jackie Brix was monitoring the area with a thermal drone, coyotes were nearby, and larger animals she thought might be wolves added uncertainty. Olivier carried leftover chicken into her garage, called to the missing dog and waited. Charlie stepped inside.
It was the final move in a search built from many smaller ones: handwritten signs, neighborhood sightings, camera timestamps and one household willing to open a garage late at night.
Charlie, a bluetick hound mix with a pronounced underbite, had disappeared Sept. 4 while Anna Wetrosky and her family were in St. Cloud for a relative’s medical emergency. Friends had agreed to let him outside during the family’s absence.
When the Wetroskys returned, they searched roads, trails and woods with headlamps, flashlights and a spotlight until 3 a.m. Hearing coyotes intensified Wetrosky’s fear. “That first night when he was missing and I heard the coyotes, I felt like I was going to puke,” she said.
The disappearance was especially painful because Charlie was already closely tied to a second chance. He had been found on the streets of a Texas city before reaching the Babinski Foundation near Pequot Lakes. Wetrosky met him while volunteering there and adopted him in 2024, when he was estimated to be at least 8 years old. She knew him as a gentle, loving dog who could be frightened by wind, woods and unfamiliar situations.
Camera timestamps narrowed the search
The next morning, the effort widened online. Brix, an airline pilot who founded The Bigger Picture LLC in Crosby in 2021, joined after a sighting placed Charlie near the Pine River airport. She had added a thermal drone to her fleet in January and estimated that she had assisted 60 to 70 pet owners during 2026.
Dense fog prevented her from launching the drone when she arrived Sept. 6. That delay reflects a genuine limitation of thermal imaging: although it can work in darkness, fog and rain can sharply reduce its effective range by weakening the infrared signal.
Instead of waiting idle, Brix and the family made large signs emphasizing Charlie’s underbite and brown eyebrows. They distributed flyers and continued sharing information. The airport lead did not locate him, but the signs prompted residents near Cottontail Drive, northeast of Chickamaw Beach, to review Ring doorbell and trail-camera records.
The timestamps began tracing Charlie’s movement. One trail camera recorded him at the end of Cottontail Drive at about 1:30 a.m. Another caught him closer to the road at 3 a.m. Two more homes recorded him around 6 a.m. Together, those sightings concentrated attention roughly a mile east of where he had disappeared.
Wetrosky left water and belongings carrying familiar scents in the area. At approximately 10:30 p.m., Charlie scratched at a resident’s door, then ran when the resident’s dog barked. Around midnight, Brix located him in Olivier’s yard, where the quiet garage and chicken finally gave him a way to stop moving.
Why calm containment matters
Charlie’s retreat from the barking dog illustrates why a frightened missing pet can be difficult to recover even after being seen. Guidance from Petco Love Lost recommends against rushing toward a skittish dog, making loud noises or using direct eye contact. A precise location, direction of travel and description may be more useful than a crowd searching on foot, which can pressure a dog out of an area or toward traffic.
Thermal drones can help search darkness, but civilian operators still must follow aviation rules. The Federal Aviation Administration generally requires flights to remain below 400 feet and within the operator’s sight; nighttime aircraft need required lights. Flying in controlled airspace near an airport requires FAA authorization. Minnesota also requires commercial drones to be registered with the state, while local rules may add further restrictions.
Once home Sept. 6, Charlie drank water and walked directly to his bed. Wetrosky recalled that he lay down, wagged his tail and stayed there until she asked whether he wanted to go to bed. After two nights of searching lights, fog and scattered timestamps, the movement had finally stopped. Have you ever adopted a dog with a story like this? Share it in the comments.
By Jake Patterson — Freelance feature writer and former animal-shelter volunteer focused on rescue, adoption, and second-chance dog stories.
