Anyone who has seen Oscar the dog with me knows that I treat him like a spoiled child. Any little bruise on him is a traumatic event for this old man. The thought of losing him is – well, you get the idea.
About 10:00 P.M. one recent Saturday night I was in the garage, Oscar was sitting at the open door to the house, watching my every move. The garage door was open a couple feet for the cool air. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and looked to see the perpetually wandering terrier from the neighborhood poke his head into the garage to sniff around the garbage can. This terrier is always on the loose and while not vicious, he is not at all friendly. I started to shoo him off and Oscar decided I had no business talking to such a beast, so he decided to take control. I barely had time to yell “stop” before he was outside and gone down the street chasing the unwanted visitor not just off the property, but possibly clean out of the city.
Now, Oscar’s training has proceeded at Oscar’s pace. I did mention this to the vet one day some time back and asked if maybe an electric collar or some such would be in order. His “No” was emphatic and he told me not to worry so much, that if Oscar got loose, he would come back. Based on recent behavior, I wasn’t so sure.
Oscar has been with us over three years, and until this summer we have managed to keep him corralled. For some reason, this summer Oscar turned into a little escape artist and managed to take himself on several little outings. These events have all been daytime adventures and happened while I was nearby. His normal route is two doors down the street then along a little drainage right-of-way to a cul-de-sac just north of us. Once there, he proceeds to sniff at every front door, ostensibly looking for a new friend. When I approach, he dashes. I can only catch him when he has exhausted himself and lies on someone’s lawn to cool off. Oscar is small and not car smart, so until I can seize the little scamp my pucker factor is a bit elevated.
Now comes the nighttime escape, a night with no moon, me in my slippers, Oscar with no collar, and my keeper in the back of the house thinking all is well. I gave chase afoot and soon realized the effort was useless when I heard Oscar and his new found running partner barking at each other in rage or at the air in glee beyond the end of the long block. I went back to the house for the truck key and off I went. I forgot the cell phone.
I pretty much figured giving chase in the truck would be a waste of time. Oscar is twenty pounds and knows no boundaries; the terrier is about 25 or 30 pounds and roams constantly. I doubted I would find this pair on a street corner waiting for a trolley. But I did not think sitting at home hollering into the night was the answer I had to do something. My big fears were the cars, not too many out, thankfully; the coyotes and foxes that roam the fields not far from the house; and, finally, that someone would decide they found a new friend when my too-friendly pup showed up on a strange front porch with no collar.
It also occurred to me that coasting along the street shining a flashlight into yards may attract some unwanted attention – cursing, cops, gunshots- the normal Saturday night silliness. I drove the neighborhood for over an hour, occasionally stopping to ask an evening walker or front porch sitter if they had seen a little dog or two. Nothing.
Already I was making mental plans for posters, door-to-door begging, etc, while mentally trying to get ready to accept the worst case- Oscar splat on the street like a cat we had seen during a recent walk. Not a pleasant night. I finally gave up and headed for the house, knowing it was going to be a sleepless night.
I parked in the driveway and headed into the house trying to decide what I was going to tell my keeper about my carelessness with our “kid.’ The keeper and the dog met me at the door.
“Where did you go?”
“Looking for that,” I said, pointing at the dog. Oscar dropped to the floor, head between his paws, rolling his eyes up at me: “Silly people.”
The keeper explained that she had come from the back of the house, the truck was gone, the cell still in the kitchen and the dog sitting on the driveway where I park, looking back and forth between the door and the street with a look on his face that said “now what?”
We now have a baby gate to block the doorway from the house to the garage.
About 10:00 P.M. one recent Saturday night I was in the garage, Oscar was sitting at the open door to the house, watching my every move. The garage door was open a couple feet for the cool air. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and looked to see the perpetually wandering terrier from the neighborhood poke his head into the garage to sniff around the garbage can. This terrier is always on the loose and while not vicious, he is not at all friendly. I started to shoo him off and Oscar decided I had no business talking to such a beast, so he decided to take control. I barely had time to yell “stop” before he was outside and gone down the street chasing the unwanted visitor not just off the property, but possibly clean out of the city.
Now, Oscar’s training has proceeded at Oscar’s pace. I did mention this to the vet one day some time back and asked if maybe an electric collar or some such would be in order. His “No” was emphatic and he told me not to worry so much, that if Oscar got loose, he would come back. Based on recent behavior, I wasn’t so sure.
Oscar has been with us over three years, and until this summer we have managed to keep him corralled. For some reason, this summer Oscar turned into a little escape artist and managed to take himself on several little outings. These events have all been daytime adventures and happened while I was nearby. His normal route is two doors down the street then along a little drainage right-of-way to a cul-de-sac just north of us. Once there, he proceeds to sniff at every front door, ostensibly looking for a new friend. When I approach, he dashes. I can only catch him when he has exhausted himself and lies on someone’s lawn to cool off. Oscar is small and not car smart, so until I can seize the little scamp my pucker factor is a bit elevated.
Now comes the nighttime escape, a night with no moon, me in my slippers, Oscar with no collar, and my keeper in the back of the house thinking all is well. I gave chase afoot and soon realized the effort was useless when I heard Oscar and his new found running partner barking at each other in rage or at the air in glee beyond the end of the long block. I went back to the house for the truck key and off I went. I forgot the cell phone.
I pretty much figured giving chase in the truck would be a waste of time. Oscar is twenty pounds and knows no boundaries; the terrier is about 25 or 30 pounds and roams constantly. I doubted I would find this pair on a street corner waiting for a trolley. But I did not think sitting at home hollering into the night was the answer I had to do something. My big fears were the cars, not too many out, thankfully; the coyotes and foxes that roam the fields not far from the house; and, finally, that someone would decide they found a new friend when my too-friendly pup showed up on a strange front porch with no collar.
It also occurred to me that coasting along the street shining a flashlight into yards may attract some unwanted attention – cursing, cops, gunshots- the normal Saturday night silliness. I drove the neighborhood for over an hour, occasionally stopping to ask an evening walker or front porch sitter if they had seen a little dog or two. Nothing.
Already I was making mental plans for posters, door-to-door begging, etc, while mentally trying to get ready to accept the worst case- Oscar splat on the street like a cat we had seen during a recent walk. Not a pleasant night. I finally gave up and headed for the house, knowing it was going to be a sleepless night.
I parked in the driveway and headed into the house trying to decide what I was going to tell my keeper about my carelessness with our “kid.’ The keeper and the dog met me at the door.
“Where did you go?”
“Looking for that,” I said, pointing at the dog. Oscar dropped to the floor, head between his paws, rolling his eyes up at me: “Silly people.”
The keeper explained that she had come from the back of the house, the truck was gone, the cell still in the kitchen and the dog sitting on the driveway where I park, looking back and forth between the door and the street with a look on his face that said “now what?”
We now have a baby gate to block the doorway from the house to the garage.
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