Where Have the Dogs Gone?

Today was another one of those uneventful days with John finishing various fix-its in the house and my working on a short story.

And then came the afternoon….

John had graciously taken the very full kitchen trash out the door and returned shouting, “They are going up the street!”

“Who is going up the street, honey?” (My thinking was someone selling door-to-door or another fire truck. Obviously it wasn’t anything to keep me from finishing making sandwiches for a friend’s supper.)

As he grabbed dog treats and leashes out of the pantry came the identification of the “they.” “kita and Folly are out again.”

Being quite sure this was a mistake, I walked out the back door to find the gate open. Those two never miss an opportunity for exploration.

“Who left the gate open?” was the question that started calmly and then rose a level or two. There really was no time for discussion, as he headed out once again.

The title of this quest is commonly known as “Where have the Dogs Gone?” Perhaps you have played this serious game of search-and-rescue.

Within minutes, John called on his cell to report that some men working down the street had seen the duo headed for the train tracks. John was in hot pursuit with a destination in mind.

I went back to making sandwiches, knowing that all would be well shortly. It was a good thing that Plan B was at my front door by then, because my supposed delivery didn’t happen. My sweet friend picked up what I was planning to take and delivered my fixings with her fixings. Whew!

Next thing I know Folly is running through the neighbor’s yard and onto the porch. I politely let her in and bragged on her ability to return home. Folly went to the kitchen to get a drink and headed for the open back door.

Yes, you have the correct picture in your mind. I hadn’t shut the gate when I discovered their get-away plan. Racing behind her and knowing she would obey my commands of “stop” and “come,” I watched her walk through the gate, up the side yard, and back up the street from whence she came. I was sure she was going to find her big sister, Kita.

The minutes seemed much longer than they were, but Folly was back home once again. John came back to get the care to help him move faster.

When he returned, Kita, this 60 pound Alaskan Husky was more in the front seat than the back. She was filthy with black dirt and had shared much of the dirt with John’s clothes and my car.

To the tub she went and behaved like the Princess she is called. After blow-drying her, I couldn’t believe the first place she wanted to go was outside to potty. “Really” was my response to this common request, but I opened the back door once again. (In case you wondered, I did remember to secure the gate after the second escape.)

So how was your afternoon? 🙂