See Dog Run (AGAIN OMG STOP RUNNING)
March 07, 2016
Who's a good dog who learned her lesson? Who?
[IMAGE NOT FOUND]
Oh my God, y'all, you guys, people. This dog! This poor old senile blind-ish deaf-ish stupid damn dog.
She'd barely been home from her Big Adventure for a few hours before she made another break for it. I let her outside (collar and tag and license and fully registered microchip all intact), then had a mild panic attack a few minutes later when she didn't return to the door quickly enough.
(I spent most of that day with a touch of low-level dog-related OCD, where the sight of an empty bed or crate would immediately compel me to run around the house to confirm that yes, okay, she still was inside the house.)
But this time the worry was justified. I looked out the family room window and SURE ENOUGH, there was my dog, once again on the wrong side of the fence. At least this time she had enough sense to seem worried about it, as she was mostly just running around in circles like OH SHIT NOT AGAIN WHAT DO I DO?
I ran outside and swooped her up, then took another look at the fence for possible escape routes. I barricaded the gate with old garden containers and plastic Ikea bins, then came inside to lie down for awhile. At least until Happy Hour.
And yet she managed to repeat this stunt TWO MORE TIMES over the weekend. The first time I was still in my PJs and had to send Ezra out into our neighbor's yard with her leash while I tried to find some shoes; the second time Jason happened to be out on the deck and luckily spotted exactly where/how she was getting out.
She was making a beeline for a loose slat in the far corner of the fence, a slat that looked completely fine from a distance but somehow our little raptor dog had discovered how to nudge it open and slip through. Sneaky smart! Until you get to the part where she had zero idea how to get back through it from the other side.
(Maybe the memory of all those hand-fed cheese slices at the shelter trumped the whole "I'm lost and terrified and miss my family" trauma?)
Best guess for her sudden out-of-character Houdini-ness is that our new neighbors have a beagle, and Ceiba seems weirdly obsessed with him. They've met a couple times on walks and it was no big deal, but when he's inside and barking at her through the windows, she suddenly and desperately wants to either 1) Get into his yard and find him, or 2) Get into his yard and pee on it just to drive him even more up the wall.
The loose slat has since been nailed back down securely, along with a general fence inspection and new gate latches. But I've gone ahead and ordered her a harness and one of those retractable yard leash thingies anyway, because my nerves can't take this. (And I imagine our neighbors' yard will also be appreciative.)
YOU'RE TEARING ME APART, CEIBA. STOPPIT.