Sunday, November 13, 2011

The Old & The Stupid (Dogs, That Is)

So, we have a problem with our dog-putting-out routine. When Nick's parents bought this house, we all thought, "Hey, cool! Poor Ty (the old dog) has been chained all her life, and how she gets a fenced yard! Boy, will she love this!" Butters (the stupid dog) spent the first year of his life in a fenced yard, so we were excited about the fence for him, too, as he hasn't taken well to being chained when outside. Fenced yard = awesome! Right?

Not so much.

The old dog turns out to be an escape artist. A really fat, slow, farty escape artist. Anyway, she's not allowed outside by herself for more than the time it takes to do her business anymore, because if left unattended and without imminent bodily functions to take care of, she somehow worms under the fence and runs away. The stupid dog is either too tall or long (or just dumb) to escape the same way, so he just follows her around the yard, frantically bouncing from one side of her to the other (and occasionally on her) and barks when she finally escapes.

After being assaulted by doggy gastric odors this afternoon, we threw both dogs into the backyard to do their business, and hopefully become less disgusting (ha). Mere minutes later, I braved the cold wind that is currently blowing our nice neat leaf piles back onto the yard, and called for Ty to come inside. Nothing happened. A quick (and shivery) glance around the yard confirmed what fatty's failure to appear had suggested - the old dog had once again slipped the fence.

"I'm not chasing her," was met with equally disinterested declarations from around the kitchen table - she's old, but she knows where she lives, bless her little geriatric heart, and we all knew she'd eventually get bored or hungry and come home. I was just settling into the rocker and trying to come up with something to blog about when I saw Ty through the front window, busy decorating the fire hydrant on the corner. Crap. Now that I knew where she was, I couldn't very well ignore her, and out the front door we went, calling her name (mostly) and pointing at the house (just in case she thought we were telling her to go next door). Cindy shooed her up the front steps, and all appeared to be ending well, when the stupid dog seized his chance at freedom and zipped between my legs and out the front door, vaulting the old dog, and skittered across the street and into the neighbors' front yard.

Unfortunately, you can't let the stupid dog just run around the neighborhood until he gets bored and comes home. For one thing, his attention span is so short, he never gets bored, and he's really really fast. For another, he doesn't know where he lives. What, you thought we call him the stupid dog because it's cute?

After shooing my barefoot, winter cold-riddled husband back into the house (and retrieving the piece of ham he'd had the foresight to snag out of the refrigerator instead of donning footwear), I followed the stupid dog down the block, waving the ham in the air, and yelling such gems as "Here, puppy puppy puppy..." and "Get over here, you fuzzy little waste of space!" Eventually he made the mistake of stopping to pee on a bush, then running up onto an enclosed porch, and I was able to get close enough to make him aware of the (nasty, wet) ham in my hand, and from there it was just a matter of keeping the ham high enough in the air that he couldn't snap it out of my hand. Did I mention that Butters runs like a drunken sailor? Well, when a piece of (disgusting, greasy) cold ham is floating a measly six feet off the ground, he doesn't so much run as bounce like some sort of demented, spring-loaded, carnivorous rabbit. It's a lot of fun.

We made it back to our own front door in one piece, and I gave him the ham (more to get it off of me than to be nice). The best part of returning the stupid dog to the house after he runs away is how he seems to have no idea he's done something wrong until we're on the front step. But as that screen door begins to swing open, he suddenly realizes he's outside without a leash, and his mommy is really pissed. Tail between the legs, ears back, big gold eyes beseeching me to spare his oh-so-miserable life... It's hard to keep a straight face and just say "Bad dog! No running away!"


  1. I have the same dags. My little runner must have been an Ethiopian long distance champion in a former life. Then the other two get all wrapped up in the moment and take off after him.

    The problem is they don't like people. The old boy bites and growls. The others bark and look menacing.

    There have been many a day I have been hauling my chubby bunny self out there red faced screaming..."Who wants bacon? Come on let's get a biscuit." Awful in every way!

  2. Lol! Thankfully, both of our dogs love people (or politely tolerate, anyway, in the case of the old dog). But heck, it's no fun chasing them around!!

  3. Andra dog is extremely loyal & protective...I can't imagine she would ever run away. For some reason, she believes it is her job to protect us and our house.

    Rowan...completely opposite. If he ever got out, he would run up to the first person he sees...wag his tail...give paw...and hope that they will give him food. He is not loyal to us and would run around the neighborhood for hours looking for fun.

    Our doggies got skunked this past week in the fenced in back yard. UGH.

    Here in the was also quite windy today. Hoping that our leaves would blow into the neighbors...but alas...more just blew in.

  4. Sounds like a lovely way to spend a cold, windy day...NOT! Funny that you also have a stupid dog. It must run in the family :o)

  5. KT, that is hilarious! Rowan sounds like quite the charmer ;) I'm sorry they got skunked, though, how icky! :( I didn't know you live in Chicago - we're west of you just south of Rockford!

    Mom, I think you're right! Igor and Butters could duke it out for World's Stupidest Dog :P

  6. Alena, I was laughing until I cried at your blog. Soooooo funny and I could picture all of it since I know all of the subjects. :) Great article.

  7. I'm glad you liked it, Grandma! I was going to send you the link and forgot, so I'm glad you found it *hugs*

  8. I think it should be titled Fatty's Failure to appear. I almost wet my pants.
    Kristine Rogers


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