In the past week, both ofmy dogs have gone on the lam. Bernie the Beagle is a escape artist, and I always fear that I'm never going to find her again but as luck would have it, she always winds up in someone's house. They see her on the side of the road, take her in, then its my job to find which house she's in and bring her home.
Tonight, Pickles ran away. I always tell everyone, he's so good in spite of his size, that he listens better than Bernie and he never wants to leave my sight. Well tonight he was out in the backyard with Cory, Cory comes in frantic looking for his leash which let's me know that Pickles is on the run. I quickly dress and go outside, certain that he's gone no further than the next door neighbor's house. 15 minutes later, still no Pickles. Now you have to know that Pickles is (1) a staffordshire terrier and (2) he's grey so we're looking for a big gray dog in the dark. Of course I was crying and making all types of promises to God because I can envision my dog either (1) shot by some person who is scared of him or (2) getting hit by a car. He has NO street savvy, and cars mean nothing to him. Thank God I found him, looking scared, lost and thirtsy in someone's backyard.
I say all this to say that I can totally related to that brief moment of freedom that they must both feel when they on the loose! I think every now and then we need to all cut loose, take off the restraints and just run free BUT always remember to come home. I think that we spend so much time tied up, tied down, and restrained by things/people/situations that we all need to be free, even if its only for 15 short minutes.
Needless to say, I'm glad I found him, otherwise, I'd be writing about my stay in the psych ward!
Tonight, Pickles ran away. I always tell everyone, he's so good in spite of his size, that he listens better than Bernie and he never wants to leave my sight. Well tonight he was out in the backyard with Cory, Cory comes in frantic looking for his leash which let's me know that Pickles is on the run. I quickly dress and go outside, certain that he's gone no further than the next door neighbor's house. 15 minutes later, still no Pickles. Now you have to know that Pickles is (1) a staffordshire terrier and (2) he's grey so we're looking for a big gray dog in the dark. Of course I was crying and making all types of promises to God because I can envision my dog either (1) shot by some person who is scared of him or (2) getting hit by a car. He has NO street savvy, and cars mean nothing to him. Thank God I found him, looking scared, lost and thirtsy in someone's backyard.
I say all this to say that I can totally related to that brief moment of freedom that they must both feel when they on the loose! I think every now and then we need to all cut loose, take off the restraints and just run free BUT always remember to come home. I think that we spend so much time tied up, tied down, and restrained by things/people/situations that we all need to be free, even if its only for 15 short minutes.
Needless to say, I'm glad I found him, otherwise, I'd be writing about my stay in the psych ward!
