The dark mutterings of a former mild-mannered reporter for a large metropolitan daily newspaper, now living in obscurity in central Indiana.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Dogs gone, dogs returned
I mowed the lawn yesterday afternoon, including the fenced section of the back yard where the dogs hang out.
This necessitates bringing the dogs into the house and putting them into their kennels so they are out of the way and so they don't bolt through the gate that I have to open to get the John Deere LA 125 lawn tractor in and out of the enclosed area.
Once I finished mowing, I parked the mower next to a hose spigot, attached the hose to the mower deck and activated the blades for two minutes to flush out whatever grass was stuck to the underside of the mower.
Then I turned off the water, disconnected the hose and parked the mower in the garage.
I let the dogs out into the yard and sat down with an iced tea to watch TV.
About an hour later, I thought I heard a voice in the back yard and saw Jack come onto the porch through the dog door and get a drink. Moments later, I noticed someone at the front door.
It was Tony Micenhamer, one of our neighbors, asking if I was OK. He said our dogs were out and the gate had been open. Yeah, I forgot to close and cable lock the gate before I let the dogs into the yard.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Tony said Jack showed up at his house, prompting him to come over and see if I had some kind of medical emergency.
With Jack secured in the back yard, we set out to search for Dora. Tony went south and I went north, up into the newer section of our small wooded subdivision. I went to the end of the road and turned around, scanning in all directions.
As I crested a rise, I looked over to my right toward the back of the house that sits across the cul-de-sac from our place and saw Dora standing inside the neighbors' fenced in-ground swimming pool area. I parked the car and walked to the pool with Dora's leash in hand. The gate was open, but Dora seemed stuck at the other end of the pool enclosure, apparently creeped out by the tarp covering the pool. She seemed glad to see me as I snapped the leash to her collar and led her to the car.
I thank God for protecting our dogs from my carelessness and making their recovery so quick and easy.
Our first Aussie, Pete, went walkabout a couple of times when we lived in Thorntown, Ind. and was gone for a few days each time, creating horrible anxiety. I'm very grateful that we were spared this time and am doubly grateful for Tony's alertness and help.
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