The Not-So-Incredible Journey

Somehow two of the three dogs (or as I call them, puptuals) escaped from the backyard this evening a little before 10 p.m. Driving through neighborhoods with my brights on, as important as it was since we needed to find them, was a bit unnerving since I didn't want people to think I was some smarmy creep driving around looking for kids.

I was looking for dogs.

Nigra, our Sheltie, was at the door when I went outside. She looked at me and I knew something wasn't right, especially since Fauna wasn't anywhere to be found. Fauna is often by the door waiting with toy in mouth and butt wiggling ferociously because she whips her tail with such force.

We had just recently put chicken wire over the gate because Raible, our Golden Retriever/Collie mix (a rescue from the street a year and a half ago) was known for squeezing through the bars like a contortionist from the circus. She had done it once and Fauna, now 1, learned how to do it too. Not a good thing to be teaching the puppy of the family. Anyway, I looked around the gate, but I couldn't see any sign of digging under the gate or any of the wire being torn. Later, to our dismay, we found the rope (OK, it was the pull string from a blind that was keeping the gate tied to the fence, but in two years, it hadn't come undone) cut.

Lucky, Fauna was a couple yards over. Steph called for her and she went running and literally hugged her. She was one scared pup. Raible, the veteran and former hobo, was coming home with her large ears cocked to the sky like satellites listening for a signal to make it home. I called her name, by now it was an hour of searching in the dark, and she hopped into the front seat of the bug, after, first, sitting on top of me.

Once Nigra, Raible and Fauna were safe inside, we took two chains to the gate and make-shifted it shut. Hopefully this won't be a problem in the future. Raible is afraid of loud noises like thunder and fireworks, which is our theory to why she tries to finds ways to escape. She's been so good lately...

But before we made our repairs, the scene where our two dogs went missing was creepy: Dirty Santa (it's a toy dog with a Santa hat that is always brown from dirt) was lying in the grass, the string looked like it was severed and it was eerie and quiet. It looked like our dogs were abducted by Chester the Dog Molester.

And now Fauna won't leave our sides, the spotted shadow she is.


Anonymous said…
This, my friend, is exactly why I don't have dogs! Well, this and the smell they leave when they piss on the carpet.

Glad all was well in the end, and I think it's completely awesome that you managed to fit a Hustler reference into the story. :)
Lucky for us, we have wood floors.
Rebecca said…
Glad your pooches are all ok. Makes me grateful that my cats are not escape artists!