It has been an eventful week with the doggies, marked by their growing comfort with the car (woo hoo!) and an unfortunate willful streak that has both Annie and me feeling a bit frustrated.
They’ve regressed with their jumping and nipping, a huge problem that we have to take care of now. They’ve been on the counters and the dining room table — they got a hold of some important mail one day and stole a sandwich I was making for lunch on another. They’ve also been digging (I think I’ve got that one under control — when they dig I squirt them with a water bottle) and refuse to listen when we kick them off the couch.
This morning brought a scare, courtesy of Rosie the Magician. I let them out in our fenced-in yard, did a few things in the kitchen and then looked out the window. Only one dog visible. I went outside, figuring that Rosie was back by the shed or on the other side of the pool. She wasn’t. Somehow, she managed to get out of the yard and was investigating the creek that runs adjacent to our yard.
That’s when panic set in. I ran into the house, grabbed her leash and ran out the front door. I had to calm down before I approached her — if I had run at her or yelled, she probably would have taken off like we were playing a game of chase. I sidled over slowly, pet her and hooked the leash to her collar.
I then went back in the yard with her and checked the fence out. I found the spot she snuck through, an unsecured spot that needs to be fixed. She probably bumped up against it while the two dogs were playing and rolled underneath.
The upshot is that I have to get some spikes and secure the fence so that they can’t push through it and escape. Sheesh.
Hank Kalet 