AuburnChick's Adventures

Today when I awoke, I eagerly awaited the time when I would get home from work so I could start knitting something that isn’t a dishcloth. Last night was the Closing Ceremonies of the Olympics, and I finished off my last dishcloth (I’ll try to post pictures tomorrow).

Of course, I had a few small chores to do (as most moms do), and then I had to take Soccer Chick to meet with her sports trainer. When we got home, it was dinner time. I let the dogs out since they had already eaten and needed to do what most living things do after they eat (i.e. go potty).

All of a sudden, Mr. AuburnChick walked out of the other room and informed me that I better check on the dogs. Apparently, Molly and Pele had escaped…once again.

Yes, I said “again,” as in this-is-not-the-first-time “again.”

Grrr…

I don’t understand why, but almost every dog we’ve ever owned has been an escape artist and a runner. Our first family dog, Cali (spoken like “Collie,” but with that weird spelling…blame Soccer Chick for the name), was a Beagle. You think Beagles can’t run? Think again. Every time she spied an open door, she bolted. Boy was she fast too. That was the most stubborn dog I think I’ve ever faced off with. Eventually, we parted ways, with me giving her to a good friend who had the magic touch and got that dog trained so she could leave the door open for hours and the dog didn’t leave the house. Of course, “Duke,” as they renamed her (weird for a female, but my friend’s husband was a John Wayne fan…whatever), continued to exhibit Beagle traits by raiding the leftovers each night.

Anyhow…I digress…

Aubie, my nine-year-old lab mix, has also been a runner…from day one. One time, she ran across a busy street and into another neighborhood. Mr. AuburnChick almost gave her up to the streets that day, but the Chick children, who were quite young, cried so much that he relented, and we all jumped into the car to find her. Imagine our consternation when we finally spotted her…in somebody’s backyard. All we could see was Aubie being sprayed with a hose. Aubie saw us and started trotting down the street. We drove very, very slowly, holding the back door open and calling her name. Aubie calmly walked on, occasionally looking at us over her left shoulder and plodding on. We probably drove half a block in this fashion until we finally coaxed her in the car.

We were fuming but inwardly relieved that she was back home where she belonged.

Pele joined our family about a year and a half ago when Soccer Chick saved her birthday money and used a PowerPoint presentation to convince Mr. AuburnChick to allow her to bring a second dog into our home. Pele has been fairly easy-going since the get-go, but one bad habit he brought to us was his digging. Pele is a lab/heeler mix, and he has BIG paws! It wouldn’t take him long to dig a swimming pool, let me tell you. However, he’s never been much of a runner…just a digger.

Last summer, I fell in love with Molly when I spied her at our local animal shelter (all of our dogs, except for Cali, came from animal shelters). From day one, I knew that Molly was a runner; however, she only weighed ten pounds when she came to my home, so she was easy to chase down. No so anymore.

When you combine Molly’s mind with Pele’s paws…well, you’ve got trouble. I like to tell people that Molly is the brains of the operation, and Pele is the muscle. What a team.

At first, the dogs only escaped to my neighbors’ yards. Thank goodness for kind neighbors…until the day when one of them called me on my cell phone and kindly, but firmly, told me that I would be replacing his sod if I didn’t do something ASAP. Boy, did I fuss at my dogs. I was mortified.

I can’t tell you how many kitchen items I have used to plug the holes around the fence. I used to own a George Foreman Grill…the kind with the tall stand. Due to my doggies’ exploits, the grill has been dismantled. The skillet part is in one hole, and the stand is in another. Hey…whatever works.

I bought a wireless pet containment system for my yard and put the special collars on Molly and Pele (Aubie does not need this because she’s older and pretty much stays home now). However, I don’t always put the collars on the dogs. They know this too, let me tell you. They also found a new place to dig. Under the fence gate…the gate that leads to the outside world.

Great.

And I wondered why there was so much dirt getting tracked into the house. It’s because Big Bad Pele was digging his little heart out…working it a little at a time so I wouldn’t notice. Have you ever seen the show Prison Break? Well, that’s exactly how M and P work.

The worst feeling in the world (well, okay, ONE of the worst) is to suddenly look out your front window and see a white streak go past. That’s when I know that the dogs have escaped.

This has happened so many times that Rockin’ Rooster can put on a helmet and jump on his bike in about five seconds flat. He has a nose for where the dogs run, usually arriving home holding onto Molly’s collar and Pele walking calmly beside her.

So, now that you know the history, you’ll understand my afternoon. As I said, I was excited to finally get to knit something besides a dishcloth, when we discovered that the dogs had escaped once again. After they returned home (yes, they do sometimes come back on their own), I got mad. I got out the shovel, heavy rake, and hatchet and proceeded to clear the weeds behind the gate. The hole beneath the gate was deep. As I hunted for something to put in the hole.,I laid eyes on the plywood I use to cover the windows during hurricane season.

Hmmm…my brain frantically put the pieces together. Would they fit??

I did a little more dirt-rearranging and wedged two of those babies into the ground, covering them with just enough soil to make it look like the dogs would be able to dig.

Heeheehee…

That’s my evil laugh.

In the middle of this chore, Mr. AuburnChick walked outside.

“You picked a strange time to work in the yarn,” he calmly said to me.

I looked up at him between my sweat-soaked humidified hair strands, holding out my dirt-streaked arms and gave him a look that wasn’t exactly loving.

He got the point and walked away.

Yeah, don’t you dare offer to help after that comment, I thought to myself.

So, the plywood is down.  All that remains is for the dogs to test it out.  I double-dog dare them to escape this time.

I sure hope I don’t lose the dare.

Filed under: Pets | Tagged: dogs, escape, Pets | 2 Comments »