Doggie Don't Don't

While I was bringing in piles of dirt on Saturday, my dog, F, got out. I have been really cautious about letting him out, because as far as I can tell, I have no authority over him whatsoever. He will not come when I call his name. He barely even acknowledges me outside the realm of the yard, so I have been dreading this day. He got out and he was gone. He could care less.

At first, I chased after him, pointlessly calling his name. He would go into people's backyards and since I was trying to value their privacy, I would wait. He would not even look at me. So, I thought: Screw it! I have work to do. So what if he roams the streets all day...

I went back to work on the dirt. After about 10 minutes, I looked up to a child crying and being comforted by her father. There was F across the street. Now, I do not think he did anything to hurt the child. (I asked just in case.) But, I did realize that he is quite a large dog. And, despite his good intentions to explore the countryside and lick people, he could be responsible for some inadvertent accidents. And since animals cannot be sued, I took it upon me to start the pursuit again.

It's a good thing I did, because he decided to go across the busier street. And, then into someone else's yard. And then near the horses. Into the gully. Into the field, through the barb wire fence and down the street.

I was angry, impatient and not looking forward to this sort of adventure. At a couple points I ran up hoping to get hold of him, but at the last minute, he would bolt. We kept going like this and he crossed the street again and went onto someone's property. As I looked around, it appeared that no one was home then, so I shut their gate behind me and went after F again.

As he went around the yard, it dawned on him that he was trapped. I could see a couple of possibilities for him, but I was not about to tell him. After a lap around, he looked beaten. He was also tired. He was not used to running that much.

At this point, I had him. And any amount of punishment would suffice. I could tell him what a bad dog he was as I exercise my authority over him. With a dog that big, a simple swat does not do the job.

But I also thought about my predicament. As a father, is this how I would react as my kid misbehaves? Am I going to get angry and tell them how bad they are? Do they have to know that my word is the law and that when they are disobedient, then I am there to crack the whip? I don't know. But I was not going to do that with my dog.

I decided to lay down, call him and make sure I was approachable. When he got close enough I patted his head and then slipped his harness on. I let him know that I was not mad, because at that point, I wasn't anymore. It was actually kind of fun. It helped me take a break from a rigorous day of yard work. We walked back to the house and I was happy about what I had learned. I think F and I were closer too, which seems kind of silly, but maybe we are better friends.

Now, we just need to figure out how to use that friendship to keep him out of the garden boxes...