my dog is trying to kill me...
Let me preface this post by saying I love my dog Charlie, and anybody who messes with him messes with ME. That being said, I swear he's trying to kill me -- but he doesn't realize, he's not my insurance beneficiary.
Sunday morning, I woke up as I usually do, and set about my day. This included letting Charlie out the back door to romp about the yard and attend to his business while I attended to mine. After about 10-15 minutes, I went to let him in, as I always do. He's usually either sniffing around something and will come bounding to the door when he hears it open, or if it's raining, snowing, or just too damn cold, he'll patiently sit by the door and wait for me. Apparently, this day, he decided to be different.
I went to the door -- no Charlie.
I opened the door -- no Charlie.
I called out for him -- no Charlie.
Oh shit.
I have a couple of spaces in my stockade fence where slats are missing, and I've not had the chance to repair it yet. This typically hasn't been a problem, because Charlie knows what side of the fence his bread is buttered on, if you will. I don't know if something caught his attention to draw him through a space in the fence, or if he forgot where his boundaries were, but on this day he seemingly chose to venture forth. I quickly threw some clothes on, grabbed his leash, locked the door, and went off in pursuit.
My first logical choice was to circle the block, since I figured that's what he might do (and I'm at least as smart as a dog). As I reached a point on the next street up from mine more or less in line with my backyard, I spotted Charlie at the next cross street.
I cocked an eye at him, he cocked an eye at me, and there we stood -- cockeyed.
This only lasted a second or two, as Charlie suddenly came to the realization that he'd been found out. With that, he took off running, as did I. Unfortunately, his four legs carry his 35 pounds slightly faster than my two legs carry my 250+ pounds, so, needless to say, by the time I reached the intersection, he was nowhere to be found.
Continuing on my prior premise of being at least as smart as my dog, I continued my circuit around the block, just in case Charlie actually did what I hoped he'd do. When I reached my house, there he stood at the top of the driveway, with a look on his face as if to say, "And just WHERE have you been? I've been waiting..." The only thing missing was him impatiently tapping his paw.
With that, we went back inside. I spent the rest of the morning ignoring him, waiting for the apology that never came. There was at least one point I looked him in the eye and said, "You do realize this will wind up on my LiveJournal, don't you?".
Suffice to say, he won't be going in the backyard unsupervised until I fix the damn fence.
Sunday morning, I woke up as I usually do, and set about my day. This included letting Charlie out the back door to romp about the yard and attend to his business while I attended to mine. After about 10-15 minutes, I went to let him in, as I always do. He's usually either sniffing around something and will come bounding to the door when he hears it open, or if it's raining, snowing, or just too damn cold, he'll patiently sit by the door and wait for me. Apparently, this day, he decided to be different.
I went to the door -- no Charlie.
I opened the door -- no Charlie.
I called out for him -- no Charlie.
Oh shit.
I have a couple of spaces in my stockade fence where slats are missing, and I've not had the chance to repair it yet. This typically hasn't been a problem, because Charlie knows what side of the fence his bread is buttered on, if you will. I don't know if something caught his attention to draw him through a space in the fence, or if he forgot where his boundaries were, but on this day he seemingly chose to venture forth. I quickly threw some clothes on, grabbed his leash, locked the door, and went off in pursuit.
My first logical choice was to circle the block, since I figured that's what he might do (and I'm at least as smart as a dog). As I reached a point on the next street up from mine more or less in line with my backyard, I spotted Charlie at the next cross street.
I cocked an eye at him, he cocked an eye at me, and there we stood -- cockeyed.
This only lasted a second or two, as Charlie suddenly came to the realization that he'd been found out. With that, he took off running, as did I. Unfortunately, his four legs carry his 35 pounds slightly faster than my two legs carry my 250+ pounds, so, needless to say, by the time I reached the intersection, he was nowhere to be found.
Continuing on my prior premise of being at least as smart as my dog, I continued my circuit around the block, just in case Charlie actually did what I hoped he'd do. When I reached my house, there he stood at the top of the driveway, with a look on his face as if to say, "And just WHERE have you been? I've been waiting..." The only thing missing was him impatiently tapping his paw.
With that, we went back inside. I spent the rest of the morning ignoring him, waiting for the apology that never came. There was at least one point I looked him in the eye and said, "You do realize this will wind up on my LiveJournal, don't you?".
Suffice to say, he won't be going in the backyard unsupervised until I fix the damn fence.