An old dog can learn new tricks

We have lived in our current house for just over two years. In this time, Rusty has never escaped from our fenced backyard. Not once.

During the day when we are at work we leave Rusty in the house. Although Rusty has never had an accident – he is definitely looking for the facilities by the time we get home. So, last Thursday, knowing Max had a doctor’s appointment at 4:00 pm, I left work 10 minutes earlier than planned so I could stop at home to let Rusty out before I picked up the kids to go to the doctor. It was a beautiful day and the little guy looked so happy out in the yard - soaking up some sun in the freshly cut grass - that I made the snap decision to leave him outside. I put his water dish on the deck and left to go get the twins.

I should explain that every day when picking up the kids, I get the same shit show every single time. I walk into the daycare and clearly see that they are happily playing, but once they spot me, it is like a scene from a child abduction movie. They start wailing and screaming, hitting me and begging not to get in the van. Yeah – I feel pretty awesome about myself every afternoon.

Anyway, my theory – and I am sure I will find out more from their therapists in the years to come – is that they have had such a good time and are so busy all day that they are just completely overwhelmed and exhausted by the time I get there. I imagine they are saying “Sweet Fancy Moses Woman! Where in the hell have you been? We are exhausted here and need some quiet time! So can you get my damn shoes on – grab my shit – and get us out of here please!” instead of what they actually say – which sounds a lot more like a shrieked version of “I don’t like you,” and “I want to stay here.”

So knowing this is what I would be up against, and knowing I would still somehow need to wrangle them into the doctor’s office - I decided to bring along a little bribe in the form of licorice and orange pop. Nothing like straight sugar to get a child to cooperate, start listening and settle down right? I can see the flaws in my logic now - but at the time, it seemed like a pretty kick-ass plan. And to my credit, it worked for about 18 minutes. They got really quiet, and all I could hear was the crinkle of wrappers and the slurp of straws. I was feeling pretty smug with myself.  

When we got to the doctor’s office, I threw open the van doors – and son of a bitch – it was like they been snorting meth the entire drive. Molly’s eyes were rolled back in her head and she was picking invisible bugs off her skirt and Max was kicking the back of the seat in front of him so quickly his little legs were a blur.

I now had two super juiced-up, whiny, overtired and sobbing kids who - thanks to the sugar pumping through their veins - could now scream even louder, and run away from me even faster. Awesome. Plus they are smart enough to know that I won’t really correct them sternly or yell at them in public. So they stood there, all jacked up and twitching - just out of arm’s reach - taunting me and knowing I couldn’t do jack shit since we were in front of a bunch of people. (I totally blame all the omega 3 for prenatal brain development which I took by the fistful during my pregnancy.)

So – finally – two nurses, one doctor and a clean bill of health later - the three of us stumbled out of the office and into the sunlight. The kids had finally crashed out – but were a total mess. They were exhausted, covered in sticky pop and licorice residue, and their little faces and eyes were all puffy from crying. I was a hot mess all on my own as the kids had knocked a giant antibacterial gel pump off the counter and it blew up at my feet.    

When we got home, the kids happily sank into the couch to detox and I cracked a beer and called Anders to see when he would be home so I could pace my drinking accordingly. That is about when I remembered I had left Rusty outside. I opened the door and called – but no Rusty. I went outside to look, but still, no Rusty. All the gates were closed, so unless he had been abducted by his mother ship, that little bugger had figured out how to escape.  

I raced out of the front of the house and frantically started calling him. Our neighbor across the street told me that he had just chased Rusty out of his garage about 10 minutes before we got home. At least I knew that he hadn’t been abducted – he was clearly enjoying a hall pass and couldn’t be too far. I raced back inside and started putting my shoes on so I could chase him when I realized that I couldn’t go anywhere. I had two burned-out junkies coming down from their sugar high on my couch.

Without knowing what to do – and picturing Rusty riding shotgun as a grill ornament – I ran back outside and kept calling him from our front yard. I am not going to lie – I was getting pretty panicked. Anders wasn’t due home for at least an hour and Rusty wouldn’t last long out there on his own. He is about as car smart as a caveman, and my two junkies were not up to the task of helping my look for him. I was pretty frazzled, and about to start crying myself when the little jackass came trotting around the corner from the bottom of our street. Luckily a woman who lives down around the corner from us had spotted Rusty in her yard, and recognized him as my dog. She knew we lived up the hill and was kind enough to bring him back.

Rusty enjoying his jail break. Damn dog.

She was very nice, and I am pretty sure I scared her just a smidge with my over the top and extra loud reaction. By this point in the day I had totally lost all sense of appropriateness and volume control and am pretty sure I shouted “Holy Fuck” at some point in the conversation. I may need to take her flowers or something.  

Since Thursday – Rusty has busted out three more times. We have tried putting rocks in the low spots under the fence where we think he could wiggle out, double checked for any holes, and somehow that little (not so) dummy still gets out.

On Friday morning – my neighbor came over and rang our bell to tell me that Rusty was out again and that he had also shit on their lawn right in front of their entryway. Nice touch Rusty – way to make friends and influence people. 

We haven’t had a chance to meet a lot of our neighbors yet – between work, kids, and life, it just hasn’t happened. And I am not sure if coming by to scoop my dog’s shit off their lawn (or shouting really loud profanity in their faces) is the best way either – but that little meeting led to us taking our kids over to their house on Sunday afternoon for a kid’s pool party. We ended up having beers on their deck while the kids played – and it turns out they are really nice people. And all the kids really get along. 

So – look at that! Rusty is doing what we haven’t been able to do in two years – he is helping us to meet our neighbors and make some friends. When people say that getting a pet will help you meet people - I am not sure if this is exactly what they had in mind - but we will take it.

(PS - As I was just getting ready to post this – a kid knocked on our door holding Rusty. When Anders answered, the kid asked Anders if we knew this stray dog. To Anders credit, he actually said he was ours. God damn it Rusty! Make that four escapes since Thursday.)