Sharav and I only had one off-leash near-disaster, when we were at the beach in Tel Aviv one time, and he ran away – probably chasing a smaller dog or a bird or something. He was pretty young, maybe a year and a half. I called and whistled for him frantically, begging him to return.
It felt like hours passed, but after around 20 of the longest minutes of my life, he sauntered back, looking delighted at wherever he had just been and whatever he had just done.
I still have no idea where he might have gone.