We have been chatting about weather conditions here in Hell recently,
and I observed in a note:
> ... when I call Chad or grandma on the phone to come and pick me up,
> they drive about _thisclose_ to the fence on that side so I can open
> the gate (and hopefully close it before the dog gets away) while
> leaning on the fence, then with a step or two I lean on the cab and
> open the door. But the dog is smart -- a lot smarter than me, I
> think -- and he is there lurking to run off when the gate is
> open. But the dog is leary of my metal cane, and when I shake it at
> him and make a growling noise he usually backs up and lets me get
> out.
The thing I feared the most, that the dog would run off when the gate
was open happened in the middle of last week, the 'ice storm
week'. The mailman, trying to be helpful knows how bad my front porch
is lately (with streams or rivets of ice on all the stairs and the
stoop itself) and how my health is lately (since my bout with
pneumonia several months ago, I have gotten progressively weaker when
trying to walk around). He rapped on my kitchen window a few days ago
and said "I am going to put your mail over here" (meaning a spot in
the chain-link fence where I could walk out my back door and get it. I
told him 'thanks' and walked out the back door to get the mail.
Naturally, Willis the dog was right on my heels when I opened the back
door and he slipped right out between my feet when the door was open.
Off he runs, but I think nothing of it; a fence is entirely around
much of the yard; let him run and have some fun. Then in chatting
with the mailman I happen to look and see the front gate is _open_;
the mailman had not closed it when he walked inside. No Willis the dog
anywhere in sight. He had seen the open gate and made a break for his
freedom.
Now in the past he has run off like that; and like a damn fool, I try
chasing him up and down the street, but never can catch him; if I had
followed him all day for several blocks I would not get him; if dogs
do not wish to be caught, they won't be. He fears if he does get
caught he will feel my wrath with a newspaper rolled up or the fly
swatter. I went back inside and took a paper plate and put a fistfull
of raw hamburger meat on it, went outside and sat in a chair on my
back yard patio, with the paper plate and meat sitting next to me.
Presently I hear quite a fuss from down the alley; five or six dogs
all barking at once. Willis is a very high strung minature pincher
with a very high-pitched bark. He is about a year old. He had gone
down to visit the two female dogs a few doors away. Now, Willis is
'fixed' and so are the two female dogs, but that does not keep them
from visiting and associating, as per the loud unsynched barking from
down the alley. Presently he comes running down the alley toward my
place (by this point I had opened the back gate as well, so he would
be able to get in when he got the scent of the hamburger meat.) In
he comes running, I let him get a good look at the meat, and get a
smell of it. While he is jumping up and down all excited, I took
the dish and said "come on in, dog, it is time for your dinner".
He was thrilled and when I opened my back door holding the paper
plate of meat just out of his reach he followed me right back inside.
Slam! I _quickly_ shut the door with him inside, and the plate of
meat, went out and re-closed the open gate. I think Willis realized
he had been tricked because he started crying and whining like a
spoiled baby and/or a very pampered but spoiled dog. Gate is then
closed; _then_ I opened the back door and went inside. Door comes
open, dog jumps out eager for more meat, but there wasn't any more
for him. I close the door and dog decides to go jump on his
favorite chair next to the furnace vent and go to sleep. The way
his little brain works, I am sure he thought with all this ice and
snow I was going to chase him up and down the alley with my
fly swatter or newspaper rolled up, and he was going to teach me a
lesson for chasing him like that. We both got what we wanted. He
got his fist full of raw hamburger meat and I got my dog back.
PAT
TELECOM Digest Editor (ptownson@massis.lcs.mit.edu)