In the ongoing saga of “Joey, the runaway dog,” Joey managed to get out of the house again today, and once he hit the yard, it was only a matter of time before he was under the loose boards in the fence and onto parts unknown.
This would be just your ordinary tale of Joey pulls another Dogdini, but this time it wasn’t someone in the family who opened the back door for him to get out. This time it would appear it was the “ghost.”
We have known since before we moved in that something was creaking around in this house other than the old floorboards. I knew it from the moment I brought Indy over to the house and he freaked out. He was terrified, and there was nothing in the house to be afraid of.
Nothing I could see anyway.
I don’t know if dogs can see things people can’t, but I suspect they can. I often see the dogs staring at something in an empty room as if they are staring into the face of someone they don’t know. The fur on their backs stands up, their body language changes, they stand alert and ready to defend their family—from what…I don’t know—and then they stand down. As if the threat has vanished…as quickly as it arrived.
And now, we have a back door that suddenly opens by itself. It didn’t always do that. But it does now. And through that open door, walked Joey. Then he made his way to the yard, and the spot in the fence where he can squeeze out. And almost two hours later, Alexa and I thought we saw him in the woods along the road. Alexa—clad in only her flannel pajamas and slippers—got out of the car and set off on foot to catch him. She braved the briars and brambles only to discover that it was a golden retriever. Not Joey. Disappointed, she climbed back into the car. As we headed back toward home, the golden retriever followed us as if to say…take me with you!
Can you imagine that?
My husband would have my head if I brought home another stray. But don’t worry…the golden wasn’t a stray…he had a collar, and from what I could tell as we got further away, he lived in the house along the same stretch of road we stopped at.
As for Joey? We found him almost a mile away.
Safe and sound.
And quite happy to be going home I might add. It was time for his lunch.
I may actually have to take my mother’s advice and get a Shakespeare collar for Joey. They are meant to keep dogs from licking stitches after surgery, but I imagine they would make it nearly impossible to slip under a fence too. Good idea Mom…I should have done that days ago!
Until the next time…I’ll be looking for a book on evicting unwanted roommates!