The next 9 hours of daylight are a bit of a blur, but it involved Louisa and I zig-zagging back and forth across every bit of BLM land we could reach with our feet, yelling Baxter's name, and looking inside every bush and hole. No response. Then we did it again, and again, and again. No response.

A truck drove past the campsite and Louisa flagged them down for help. They were some local hunters and they had their dog with them as well. They let their dog wander around a bit to help look for Baxter, but we couldn't find him.

The sun set, it got dark, and we setup camp for the night at the exact same spot hoping he'd find us in the night. Unfortunately, he did not.

The next morning, we started the day by again exploring the BLM land around our campsite inch by inch and yelling his name. No response. We decided to hop in the truck and drive further down the BLM road, yelling his name from the window. We reached the end of the road. No response. We turned around and tried again, and again, and again, and drove the length of the road until the sun started to go down. Still no signs of Baxter.