I’ve noticed, in the last couple of posts, that Beagle Man’s been featuring my young nephew Pickle quite prominently. I mean, jeez — why don’t we just start calling the blog BLACK LAB MAN?
Last week we were watching Pickle while Robby and Brianne were away. The little attention-grabber and I were just goofing around in the backyard when he wandered over to the side of the house, where there’s an arbor with a gate. Beyond that is the driveway, and the street. He gave the gate a nudge. It was unlatched. And he was off. Pickle’s Excellent Adventure.
Beagle Man, who was in the kitchen at the time, came to check on us. He looked out through the back door glass. Didn’t see Pickle. He came outside. Searched the whole yard, which doesn’t take long; it’s a tiny yard. No Pickle. Then he saw the open gate. And freaked out.
Though he left me in the backyard, I could still hear him calling, from all over the neighborhood: “Pickle! Pickle! Pickie, here!” He went up and down every block, enlisting help from an army of neighbors along the way. Later on, Mom joined in the search. Then, Robby, who’d come home by then.
Robby finally found him . . . next door! Two yappy little dogs live there, and Pickle’s obsessed with them, constantly trying to get into their yard. That’s where he was the whole 40 minutes he was “missing.” I could’ve told everyone that, and saved a lot of worry and aggravation, if they’d only asked me.
Btw, Pickle turned one yesterday. Happy Birthday, you crazy little guy. Just remember, when I was your age, I was the one getting all the attention.
Beagle Man always has a lot to say, so I’ll just pipe up in The Duck Dog Speaks whenever I can.
That jailbreak was worthy of a heart attack! There is nothing worse than looking out back for two dogs and only finding one. Ollie used to find areas to sneak through beneath the fence surrounding the yard. Luckily, he was predominantly white, so I could see him wandering in the woods against all the brown trees and fallen leaves. But Pickles is another story. Lucky for me, Ollie has gained a few pounds. Those holes beneath the fence are of no consequence now!
AND the dog belongs to my son. Double trouble!
AND it’s my son’s dog, so double trouble!
FAGAN our first weimaraner engineered an escape by breaking through between the fence and the fancy wood covering around the deck during a thunderstorm – it was maybe 3 inches wide. We searched high and low, called police to keep an eye out for him. We were devastated. We are surrounded by woods – where to search? 5 hours later he returned covered in mud. We think he got scared and went to ground by the stream behind us that’s like down a 2 story high – almost straight down slope. Never so relieved. We fortified that area quick.
I’ll bet!
Dogs…the source of so much joy and angst! Happily, dogs usually take care of themselves. I still marvel that two people who were, at best, uncertain about dogs, are now devoted dog lovers!
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