Charity Froggenhall

Apologies for this becoming the “How the hell did my dog do that?” blog, but this evening I let him out into the backyard. There’s a hole in the backyard fence. I know this because back in February he used it to get all the way out of the yard and to the street behind our house, twice in one day.

I have his harness attached to a 30-foot-long line so that he can still roam the backyard, and I don’t have to worry. In theory.

I let him out in the yard, and then I’m sitting here inside. He’s starting to yelp, and I’m thinking, Oh, he’s barking at some dog in a neighboring yard or something. The yelping gets kind of piercing, and I start to think, Oh no, maybe he’s gotten into some tussle with some rodent or something.

I go out, and he’s all the way at the other end of the yard. He sees me, wags his tail, and I come over. He comes over to me. His 30-foot-long line is wrapped around the bushes in the very back of the yard, and I pull because he’s gotten stuck in the bushes. He’s gotten it wound around the bushes…and the line is not attached to the hook anymore. There’s a big metal ring dangling from the end of it.

So somehow he pulled that off of the hook that is screwed into the dirt with a 6-inch spike, basically, that has a corkscrew shape. Either he pulled it, or it fell apart or something? He got all the way to the other side of the yard, and the only reason that I am not roaming the neighborhood looking for him again is because he got tangled up in the shrubs.

I don’t even know how he did that.

Ah autumn. Even though the equinox is still almost 24 hours from now, the mornings are getting cooler, the heat is mellowing…

And the dogs are reinstalling themselves on their people for naps.