Wednesday, March 2

Run for the Border

You would think she hated living here. Jasper that is. The dog.

How else to explain why, whenever she accidentally gets loose outside, she makes a run for it?

Tonight, in my pink meat hating induced haze, I attempted to take Jasper out for her nightly walk. I clipped the leash on, opened the door and watched as she ran freely out the door while the leash stayed behind in my hand. Oops.

I grabbed my keys (thankfully!) and headed out after her. She was already across the street in the neighbour's yard and wasn't falling for my "Hey Jasper , let's go for a ride in the car" trick. She headed down the block and I followed, alternating between fun, excited, "Let's go for a walk. Come on this way" attempts to lure her back and yelling "Wait" in the 'mean voice' - both of which work like a charm - when she's on the leash. Off leash - she barely looked back, and when she did it was just to see how big of lead she had.

She finally reached the end of the block and seemed a bit confused. Which way to go? A whole new world was open if she wandered off of this most familiar block. I grabbed the opportunity and called her one more time and she finally came barreling back towards me. And kept right on going.

I happened to be standing beside a neighbours open gate, so I went in their yard and called again. Jasper was intrigued. Normally she's not allowed in this yard. And a dog lives here. She fell for it and came running in. I closed the gate, cornered her and this time - got the leash on properly.

It wasn't until we were walking back that I remembered I was wearing my pajamas.


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