Off to the races...

Greyhounds are fast. REALLY fast. I however, am NOT.

Yesterday Donny decided to go for a stroll without permission...

As I was taking some cardboard boxes outside to put them in the car, I placed them in front of the back gate as I opened it slowly... only about 6-8". Now mind you... the boxes stand about 3 feet high and are approximately 2-3foot wide. The door is open about 6-8".

Ahhh... But greyhounds are skinny.

Seizing the moment, and hearing the clatter
Donny sprung from his perch to see what was the matter...

Although nothing was really the matter. He just wanted to get out.

So he did.

So the Punk Trash Dog vaulted the boxes and in one motion, squeezed (squoze???) between the gate and the fence and took off like a shot. There he goes...

It took me all of about 10 seconds to throw my stuff on the ground, lock the gate (so Marie couldn't join us on our leisurely stroll) and run around the corner.

And Donny was nowhere to be seen. I start running down the hill in the direction I think he went. I quickly call Sarah to let her know Donny's on the loose (she's at Mimi's place with Ethan, so she really can't help anyway) and I hang up and continue running.

Stupid dog. This is NOT good. We've been at the house with the dogs for no more than 24 hours, so there's no POSSIBLE way he'll know how to get back. And although the road outside our house isn't a highway, there's some pretty decent traffic. And he's nowhere in sight.

Quick prayer. (huff, puff) Stupid doggggg (huff, puff)...

At this point, I'm thinking to myself that there's no way I'm going to catch him. I should have gotten in the car, but at this point I've already committed. So I keep running... and I'm already gasping for air.

Then a guy in a blue truck calls out to me... "You lookin' for a dog?"

"Yeah..." (gasping for air)

"He went WAAAAAY down there (motioning down the road). I'll see if I can stop him for you... does he bite?"

"No..." (even if he did, I wouldn't have told him)

So nice blue truck man drives on down and I see him pull over. I'm yelling to Donny, and from past experience, I know the Donn-meister hears me but is just ignoring me... I can only imagine his thought process...

No way I'm coming back there... First you leave me at the house in MD for 2 weeks with almost no human contact, then you ship me off to Philly, and now where the FREAK am I??? I've been that stupid crate all day and there ain't no way I'm coming back yet...

Now blue truck guy and another man has reached the fleeing canine and, true to form, Donny approaches (after making his 20th "pit stop" of the trip) and jumps up to try to sniff the guy's face... basically how he greets all humans. Helper-guy grabs Donny's collar, and the journey is over. I thank him and blue truck guy as he drives past, and start the long huff-puff journey back up the hill toward home.

I have decided to wire the gate shut. We will no longer use it. End of story.