I think I have only just now recovered from some terrible excitement here on Friday. I had two runaway dogs!
Poe and Bridget were missing for at least five hours. During that time I drove around the neighborhood crying and screaming out of the window for them. I went through half a tank of gas.
It all started when I decided to try starting the lawn mower. I thought the dogs were outback. I spend a good part of my day holding the back door open as the dogs trot back and forth between the house and the yard. The mower started right up, which was a huge surprise. As I was mowing the lawn, I thought it was strange that Poe wasn’t making me crazy with his ball but figured I must have let them back in the house as some point during the morning. So I finish with the lawn and then immediately go to let the dogs outside.
Lucy is the only one at the door. Hmmm. I run through the house yelling for them, run through the back yard yelling for them, back through the house this time looking behind closed doors, back through the yard. No dogs. And no apparent signs of escape either – that is still a mystery although I am suspecting it could be a faulty gate latch.
The only time I wasn’t driving the neighborhood was when I was driving home, hoping they had made their way back. Many people told me they had seen them “just about 45 minutes ago” so I knew they were sticking together. On one of my trips back to the house, there was a message on my answering machine. This man saw someone putting up a sign about finding two dogs and then drove into my neighborhood and saw my signs about losing two dogs!
Poe and Bridget managed to get very lost and ended up on a very, very busy road. (I hate to even think about that part.) Luckily for me and them, someone stopped and took them home. Until this weekend I did not have collars on the dogs – I heard that collars could collapse a pug’s trachea so I use harnesses when I walk them. I was also under the misguided impression that they couldn’t escape from my fenced yard. After spending Friday hysterical and searching for them. I spent a good part of Saturday buying them collars and tags.
Anyway, they are home now thankfully. Poe does not seem to know or care about the magnitude of his transgression. When I went to collect them, there he was laying in the middle of the good Samaritan’s yard chewing on a rawhide. He did not even bother to get up to greet me! little bastard. When we got home, he thought I should start throwing his ball for him right away. Bridget however, was very glad to see me and seemed quite relieved. At least one of them has some sense!