We budgeted money for her spay for August, but she surprised us. Oh, joy! No more carefree romps, Emma dear. We learned several weeks ago she has a hankering to run, so she's never out without a leash now. She's gotten loose from us twice, but it was by accident. She is NOT easy to catch when she does get loose, either. It's all a really fun, endless game for her --- Dash up to mommy, fake to the right and run left! Whip by daddy, tail held high!
The first time she got loose, my hubby came stomping into the house ticked off as could be. "It's your turn!" he intoned, "I've HAD IT. I can't catch her!" So out I went, walking through the school parking lot behind our yard. DH said she'd even been running in the middle of the road -- Oh, Lordy! Finally, though, I found her near the doghouse of a neighbor's dog, right next to the large schoolyard field. If it hadn't been for the flash of white in the moonlight, I'd never have found her.
She was silent and sneaky, watching me search and hearing my call and the rattle of her treats bag. As soon as she realized I'd found her, she began her mad dashes around me. Despite my having a bag of her treats, despite my crouching on the ground in the middle of the field, she would not come to me. She's a beautiful dog, and to see her run unchecked is to see fluid poetry in action. But not at 1:30am. Not when you're sore and tired.
Behold! Here came DH riding up on his bicycle, intending to herd the wayward puppy toward me.
What does a puppy do when she sees something she's never before encountered? Does she care that it is the wee hours of the morning? No! She barks and exclaims "what the HECK is that thing!? Ohmygosh it's big, but it could be fun!" She advances, then skitters back, then advances again, barking. It's all such great fun! Plan A is a dismal failure, so DH turns his bike toward the school's exit to our road and starts toward home.
Something I can only liken to the Pied Piper Effect occurs: Emma follows him, trotting behind the bike with her tail held high, like she's done it a thousand times. She docilly and quietly tailed him all the way up the road and right into the garage, where he nabbed her.
The next (and last) time she got loose, slipping her collar, I joined the search looking like a metro housing reject. It was that bad. I'd been doing some cooking and was just chillin' at home that afternoon. No bra. Tomato-stained white t-shirt. Shorts. Hairy legs. Messy hair.
Of course, Emma was back behind the same neighbor's house, trying to engage their English sheepdog in play. Poor Lucky, said dog, is shy and was a reluctant playmate. As soon as Emma saw me, the chase was on again. This time, she grabbed something from the ground in her mouth -- a wad of red socks from the look of it -- and pranced around carrying it like a great banner. Then she ran back to Lucky's domain. And back out again to get the sock thing and strut. I could see people moving around inside the house belonging to Lucky girl. By the time my hubby met me at the scene of the crime, the neighbor had exited his house and walked up toward us. He was smiling. This was a good sign!
Once he stooped to pet his own dog, Emma couldn't stand it. She had to run up and get attention, too. Her saving grace is her love-sponge nature, yes. Howie hooked her back into her collar and thanked the neighbor as I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled broadly, hoping my smile would be a bright decoy and distract him from the rest of me. I hope he didn't notice how trashy his dog-crazy neighbor looked, but if he did....Oh, well. :)
No more solo runs, doggie girl, especially now.
