A Big Thank You to Montecito

Every once in a while, something happens that reminds you how extraordinary are the people who call Montecito home. 

On Friday afternoon, July 3, I brought my beloved two-year-old blue merle Mini Australian Shepherd, Daisy, to our CalPrivate Bank office in Montecito, as I often do on Fridays. Because many of our clients had the day off in advance of the Fourth of July holiday, several stopped by the bank to say hello – and, if I’m being honest, to see Daisy as much as they were coming to see me. Somehow, amid the afternoon activity, Daisy became startled and took off, setting in motion an unforgettable reminder of the kindness and generosity that defines this community.

She was obviously frightened and confused. Still wearing her leash, she circled the bank’s parking lot, ran behind the bank, crossed to the library, darted through the Upper Village, raced through the Pierre Lafond parking lot, and continued along East Valley Road. Watching her run farther away while being unable to catch her was one of the most helpless feelings I’ve ever experienced.

Yet at every turn, the people of Montecito seemed to appear.

As Daisy raced through the Pierre Lafond parking lot, customers and employees immediately joined the search. People from many of the surrounding businesses came outside to help, pointing in the direction they had just seen her run. At the intersection of East Valley Road and San Ysidro Road, drivers stopped their cars, stepped into the street, and even paused traffic to make sure Daisy could cross safely without being struck. Complete strangers ran alongside me, trying to help catch her. Everywhere Daisy ran, there always seemed to be three or four people searching with me, determined to help bring her home.

I wish I had been able to learn everyone’s name, but I simply couldn’t. I was carrying my phone, following Daisy’s GPS tracking collar as it updated her location every few seconds, and desperately trying to keep up. My only thought was getting her home safely. Our family was looking forward to celebrating the Fourth of July together, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen if I couldn’t find her.

Daisy’s GPS collar ultimately helped me locate her, but it also showed me just how determined she was to keep running. It was clear she was operating on pure instinct. There was no calling her back.

One person went far beyond what anyone could reasonably expect. My GPS tracker showed Daisy behind a home just off East Valley Road, bordering San Ysidro Creek. As I anxiously approached the property, the homeowner, Charlie, happened to be in his backyard. Without hesitation, he welcomed me onto his property, helped me search along the creek, and when Daisy slipped away once again, he generously drove me to Randall Road so I could continue the chase.

Another kind soul, Heather, stopped along Randall Road and offered to remain there in case Daisy circled back. Knowing someone was watching that escape route gave me hope during a very stressful moment.

In the end, fate finally intervened. At the very top of Randall Road, Daisy’s leash became caught on the branch of a tree, giving me just enough time to reach her and scoop her into my arms. I don’t know who was happier at that moment – Daisy or me.

From the time Daisy took off at about 2:30 that afternoon until I finally caught up with her at approximately 3:45, she led many of us on quite an adventure. According to her GPS tracker, with all of her zigzagging, doubling back, and running in circles, Daisy covered nearly three and a half miles before I was finally able to bring her home.

Looking back now, I realize that while I was terrified, I was never really alone. Everywhere I turned, someone was willing to help. The generosity of Charlie, Heather, the employees and customers throughout the Upper Village, the drivers who stopped their cars, and the many people who joined the search reassured me that this community genuinely cared.

In a world where we often hear about what divides us, this experience reminded me of what unites us: compassion, kindness, and a willingness to help someone in need – even someone you’ve never met.

I know I will never have the opportunity to personally thank everyone who helped that afternoon, so I hope this letter reaches you. Your kindness turned one of the most frightening experiences of my life into one of the most meaningful. It reminded me how fortunate I am to work in Montecito and to be part of a community whose members care so deeply for one another.

Daisy may never know just how many people cared enough to help bring her home, but I certainly will.

Thank you, Montecito.  

George Leis,
CalPrivate Bank, Montecito