She managed to slip her leash again. It got snagged on something, and remembering the kind attentions of the golden haired dog down the block off she went. Calling her does absolutely no good. It happens so seldom that she just can't resist a little romp around the neighborhood at her own direction.
Chasing after does no good so I settled myself for a nerve wracking wait until she either hauled her tired butt home, or got herself hit by a car. Since she walked by letting her nose lead her instead of her cataract covered eyes she is apt to just walk right out in front of a car. Try as we might over the years to get her to stop at each corner and look she has a nose of her own and never would learn that. The scent is just to powerful. She also never learned come.
It pretty much ruined supper. Cussing her and trying to act ticked instead of worried sick we ate our meal in silence. Both of us frequently looking out the window. Listening as every car spend by at twice the normal speed limit for a cry of pain.
After dinner I went out to work on the planter. Sitting on the lawn chair I see her making her tired way through the woods and home. Head down, tail between her legs, as submissive looking as she could make herself. Please don't be mad her, her eyes plead, I just can't help myself. Relief floods through my body as I drop to my knees and hug her muddy self. Oh you silly old dog. You scared some years off of me. I couldn't help but notice it takes more out of her these days, these small infrequent escapes she makes. She walks like a old dog into the house for some fresh water.
The next day she is stiff and sore. Trying to jump up on the bed she is not able to and Rick lifts her 80 pounds up. My new gray hairs, her stiff old body. I am grateful she is back and she is grateful for the help up to the soft bed. And I thought teenagers were difficult.
Today she is back to her old self. Still has some trouble getting up in the high bed, but she can make it. But I am already planning on getting some steps. For I got a glimpse of the older dog in the shadows. And I think the day she doesn't make good her escape may bring tears....
7 comments:
Me too Julia.
Once Sheeba followed me to the Post Office without me knowing she was coming. It was a night mare in the heavy traffic. How both of us live to tell the story is a miracle.
I am glad that she found her way back home. She was really tired to come almost dragging back in like that or was afreid she would get punished one. Helen
So gald you got Zoey back safe and sound. I remember many years ago our Cocker Spaniel Thor escaped in deep snow when we found him he could not lift his head as the soft snow was clinging so badly to his ears and the weight was just too much we had to carry him home then thaw his ears in warm water Oh he was a lovely dog. Love Joan
I can't imagine the worry you must have been going through. I dread the day Pickles gets older and I lose her. I'm so glad she came home safe and sound. (Hugs)Indigo
While reading this I kept flashing to a story a co-worker once told me about her drunken husband who used to go out on "bouts" and come back ashamed on Sunday night. ~Mary
I agree that worrying about my four-legged kids is more worry than a teenager. whew! glad she is home & safe. hugz~kbear
I'm so glad she is home safe and sound. When I was a kid, my Daschund used to do that. I'd watch her exploring the neighborhood. She'd be gone for 2 hours...then drag her sorry little tired body home. They love it!
Give Zoey a pat on the head for me, ok?
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