Wally's done it again.
Last night Joe came home from his dad's house. At 10:10 PM I opened the front door to let Joe in and Wally ran out. Even though me, Joe, and Paul all screamed Wally's name and "commanded" him to come back he kept on running. So, after a 3 hour trip from from Paul's house to mine, Paul, Joe and I took to the neighborhood searching for that doggone dog! We couldn't find him on foot so we took to our cars. Searching for a black/tan dog at night is not easy. Finally I catch a glimpse of Wally and as soon as I called his name he bolted! Doggone that doggone dog. Meanwhile Paul is searching in his car and Joe is at home waiting by the phone in case someone captures Wally and calls to tell us they have him. It's now been an hour and still no Wally. I go back home by Joe while Paul is out searching. I'm sure after a 3-hour drive and having to get up and be to work by 6 AM he'd rather be in bed sleeping. So many thoughts are running through my head. Maybe we should give Wally up and admit we can't handle him ... why can't he learn the "come" command ... that's it we're never getting another dog ... geez, what if we don't find him tonight ... he'll be lonely and scared and hungry ... if he runs away one more time he's going back to the shelter ... oh please come home Wally ... that's it we're going back to dog school and you're going to learn your commands once and for all ... oh geez, what if he's hurt ... i miss you already Wally ... please come home ... if we take you back to the shelter you might not get another chance ... Joe is sobbing. Joe and I say some prayers for Wally.
Then I have an idea. Maybe if I go out in the back yard and sprinkle some of his favorite treats on the deck he'll smell them and come home. :) But, we have a fenced in back yard so how will he get in. Guess I'll unlatch the gate. As I start down the steps of the deck my foot slips and next thing I know I'm laying on my back looking up at the beautiful moon and stars. !!! I lay there and think ... all this for a dog. But in the midst of my emotional rollercoaster it was God's way of saying slow down, take a deep breath, and let me handle this. As I regain my composure and go limping back into the house (thankful no one saw me wipe out), Joe is on the phone saying Dad found Wally and they're on their way home. Wally comes home to hugs and kisses. All of us so thankful he's safe. Wally slinks into his crate with his tail between his legs. Paul goes home. Joe goes to bed. I grab the bottle of Ibuprofen to prevent the sore muscles I'll surely have come morning. I go limping down the hall to my bedroom holding my very sore gluteus maximus. Grass and leaves and mud (thankfully not poop) all over my sweatshirt and jeans. It's now 11:30 PM. Feels like it should be later. We're glad you're home Wally. You're ours forever. We love you, you doggone dog!!!
Last night Joe came home from his dad's house. At 10:10 PM I opened the front door to let Joe in and Wally ran out. Even though me, Joe, and Paul all screamed Wally's name and "commanded" him to come back he kept on running. So, after a 3 hour trip from from Paul's house to mine, Paul, Joe and I took to the neighborhood searching for that doggone dog! We couldn't find him on foot so we took to our cars. Searching for a black/tan dog at night is not easy. Finally I catch a glimpse of Wally and as soon as I called his name he bolted! Doggone that doggone dog. Meanwhile Paul is searching in his car and Joe is at home waiting by the phone in case someone captures Wally and calls to tell us they have him. It's now been an hour and still no Wally. I go back home by Joe while Paul is out searching. I'm sure after a 3-hour drive and having to get up and be to work by 6 AM he'd rather be in bed sleeping. So many thoughts are running through my head. Maybe we should give Wally up and admit we can't handle him ... why can't he learn the "come" command ... that's it we're never getting another dog ... geez, what if we don't find him tonight ... he'll be lonely and scared and hungry ... if he runs away one more time he's going back to the shelter ... oh please come home Wally ... that's it we're going back to dog school and you're going to learn your commands once and for all ... oh geez, what if he's hurt ... i miss you already Wally ... please come home ... if we take you back to the shelter you might not get another chance ... Joe is sobbing. Joe and I say some prayers for Wally.
Then I have an idea. Maybe if I go out in the back yard and sprinkle some of his favorite treats on the deck he'll smell them and come home. :) But, we have a fenced in back yard so how will he get in. Guess I'll unlatch the gate. As I start down the steps of the deck my foot slips and next thing I know I'm laying on my back looking up at the beautiful moon and stars. !!! I lay there and think ... all this for a dog. But in the midst of my emotional rollercoaster it was God's way of saying slow down, take a deep breath, and let me handle this. As I regain my composure and go limping back into the house (thankful no one saw me wipe out), Joe is on the phone saying Dad found Wally and they're on their way home. Wally comes home to hugs and kisses. All of us so thankful he's safe. Wally slinks into his crate with his tail between his legs. Paul goes home. Joe goes to bed. I grab the bottle of Ibuprofen to prevent the sore muscles I'll surely have come morning. I go limping down the hall to my bedroom holding my very sore gluteus maximus. Grass and leaves and mud (thankfully not poop) all over my sweatshirt and jeans. It's now 11:30 PM. Feels like it should be later. We're glad you're home Wally. You're ours forever. We love you, you doggone dog!!!
