About a week ago, Poppy kept mysteriously vanishing from the backyard, then reappearing in the front, running around in a frothy panic of WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DOOOOOO. Unlike Beau, she's never been much of a runner or escape artist, and for the life of us we could not figure out what was happening.
The gates were closed and locked on both sides. Jason went around with nails and a hammer in search of any loose posts and I filled in a couple suspicious spots where it looked like she might be digging out underneath. And then yet again, I'd look out the front window and there was Poppy, looking just as confused as I did, like, AGAIN? HOW? WHY?
(Or, if she spotted any of our human neighbors, she was invariably right at their feet and offering up her belly for rubs. I'd run over and apologize and explain the current escapee mystery, and then they'd sheepishly assure me that it was okay, they were totally going to bring her back but just wanted to pet her for a little bit first. Everybody really likes Poppy.)
One day it was raining and she came back crying and panting and completely covered in mud and I had to give her a bath, which she was NOT a fan of. I felt like maybe she'd learned her lesson that time and would knock it off.
Finally, we figured it out when she did it right damn in front of us. She's just straight-up jumping over the fence.
If she spots a squirrel (SQUIRREL SQUIRREL SQUIRREL) in our neighbor's yard, she bolts over the back fence, using her back legs on one of those tree trunks/roots to boost her over. Once the squirrel gets away (THEY AREN'T ALWAYS SO LUCKY THO), she freezes, runs back to the fence, freaks out, then cuts through another yard to beg to be let back in.
Unless, of course, she spots ANOTHER squirrel, the mere sight of which overwrites literally all other thoughts in her brain. Then who knows where she'll end up.
I don't think a new fence is doable right now, so we've constructed some crude wire fencing around the trees to deter her, and crossed our fingers that she's done growing and won't be able to make the jump unassisted.
Beau's like, "Whatever, mah runnin days r behind me. I kno where the treats live."
Bonus dumb story for the cat people: A very big angry wasp got in the house yesterday and while we were trying to chase it back outside Finn pounced and caught it. He killed it, but got his poor little paw stung in the process. He was so very shocked, like THAT SUPER-SIZED SKY RAISIN BIT ME and nursed his paw for about 20 minutes while glaring at Jason, who disposed of the dead wasp before Finn ould eat it or toy with it or put in one of my shoes.
(P.S. The dogs aren't "allowed" on our "bed" so no one show "Jason" this "photo.")