Lileks' dog got away again, & I pray they find him...again. "Again" is the key word here. All the Bleatnik-ball-busting that he endures every time this happens seems to have had no effect. For God's sake, if that was me, if the collar could slip off, there'd be a harness....if the harness slipped or broke, I'd use friggin' handcuffs, cable ties, anything to keep it from happening again. And the gate in his yard? I'd make it foolproof, fail-safe, so tight a human would have a hard time getting out.
But I do understand the dog's point of view in this.
The dog of my childhood, our first & best, was named Gypsy, & she used to give us fits at our summer home in upstate NY. She was a beagle/terrier mix, with all the strengths of both breeds & none of the weaknesses of either, & her hound instincts were very strong indeed. Our rural road must have seemed like heaven to her, with the maddening scents of every animal that lived in the area. So she'd occasionally escape, even after we'd "dogproofed" the screen door with a hook & eye latch; she learned to jump high enough to push the hook out, & POOF she was zooming across the road, into the deep, dark woods, with only the white tip of her tail visible to mark her position. We'd call her name over & over, sometimes sweetly & lovingly, sometimes angrily & threateningly, & she'd poke her head up, look at us saucily with her tongue lolling out the side of her muzzle, as if to say, "Nope. Not done yet." Then, when she was finally exhausted she'd come home in her own good time, crawling on her belly, low, so low to the ground, looking up with such guilt that you just couldn't stay mad at her, you couldn't do anything but a) thank God she came back, & b) hug her wet, dirty body like the father of the Prodigal Son would have hugged his kid.
These were incidents that ended happily, though each time the spectre of death by car loomed over them. Luckily, there wasn't a lot of traffic on the roads of West Saugerties, but the possibility was always there. Gypsy was a good, smart dog, & never even tried to get out at home in Queens...the scents & sounds of the woods were evidently just too much for her to not bolt. But she always came back.
I hope Scout comes back to the Lilekses, & in one big, guilty piece.
Nothing compares to the love between a boy and his first pet, in a way it's the first time , you feel unconditional love and the feelings of responsibilityr for something that loves you back , unquestioned
ReplyDeleteGood luck getting Scout back James, I hope this part of your family returns, no worse for the wear, Scout knows where he belongs
Gypsy was well named! Glad the feared car accident never happened. We have no fence in the front and it's a constant worry, even though our guys mostly stay on the leash.
ReplyDeleteYour pups are big & strong - don't let 'em drag you around! I can see myself being dragged down an icy street walking those two. And man, Nipsey got BIG! I know, they tend to do that.
DeleteWhat troubles me is that Scout was so close to the Mississippi when he vanished. Could he have gone into the water, floated downstream... or not?
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure, Marjorie. Dogs usually know to keep their distance from rivers & streams, but in the dark...who knows? Every day he's gone means less of a chance of his return, but stranger things have happened. I still pray for his return every day.
DeleteMe too. This is horrible. Every day, I defy the edict at work (NO INTERNET EXCEPT DURING LUNCH) to check lileks... is Scout back yet? I don't know which is worst -- being ghosted by your own dog and never finding out what happened -- or finding out. I lost a cat because she was elderly (and ditzy) -- she was also very thin because of thyroid problems (I did feed and medicate her but to little effect). She slipped out one night and I decided to give her a hour -- I wanted her to think of the outdoors as her litterbox (she couldn't use the regular box because of arthritis) and neighbors (1) found her; (2) called the local pet rescue people [at midnight!]. They (3) came and picked her up -- took her to the local overpriced pet emergency hospital where (4) the vet on duty promptly pronounced her a stray (believe me, my pets are all CHIPPED now) and put her to sleep. At least I found out what happened after three days. But it was a bad, bad, three days. (I'm also Cleo Victory, by the way.)
DeleteHiya Cleo! I'm very happy to see you here. Other Bleatniks stop by, but I don't know who any of them are! (Except Fred, of course.)
DeleteNot so happy is the story you just related...& finding out the way you did must have been just awful.
I don't understand people that let the cat outside, while it actually lives in the house. (I do get the "outside cat" thing, & that often ends in heartbreak, too.)
Came home from work one night back in NY, & saw (what I thought was) my cat TJ in the bushes in the yard. Spent FOUR HOURS trying to get this cat...AND...it wasn't my cat. I went inside to get a drink & saw TJ asleep on the couch.