The Loss of my First-Born

For a week now, Rocky has been trying to sneak out the garage door and down along the fence at the edge of our yard. For those who have lost track, Rocky is our 8 year old miniature schnauzer we got the month after we got married who doubles as an escape artist. So we've got history, you see?
You also see where this is going, don't you? While Rocky has certainly become less of a major player in our daily activities, he has still been around the longest.
Yesterday, I apparently left the garage door open when I went out for a walk/run. I came back and found the door open and no sign of Rocky. His collar, however, lay attached to his leash where I had taken it off earlier that morning. I knew exactly what path he had taken but was sure he was gone as at least 30 minutes had elapsed. The yard backs up to some woods and undeveloped land but I looked anyway (several times). There were several neighborhood dogs loose; Rocky wasn't with them (another bad sign).
I figured this was it. He was gone. And I couldn't keep looking for him because Johanna was screaming. I told John; he felt the same way. He asked that I put away Rocky's toys before he got home from work.
I called the vet down the street. I put up signs. A neighbor called as I drove home from picking up Molly; he had seen Rocky earlier that morning, but he didnt approach him. He felt so bad he and his wife drove around looking for Rocky yesterday evening. John went out and looked when he got home.
Molly asked me why I was putting Rocky's toys in the storage room and later she asked where he was. She seemed satisfied when I told her he had run away.
When we went to bed, John asked me to leave a bowl of food on the porch and he left the garage door open a bit. I felt bad for John; in all the times Rocky had run away, he had NEVER come back on his own.
At 630 this morning, John was standing in our dark bedroom, telling me to look at something. I was asleep, so I didn't have glasses on and I had no idea what he was holding. It took a minute, but it registered that Rocky was back, having emptied the food bowl and snuck into the garage.
By 7am he had had a bath but was still covered in burs. By 9am, he was at the groomers. And I suspect by 5pm, he will be home, void of burs, his beard, his skirt, and any pride he had left.