Tag Archives: Shawshank Redemption

10/29/14 Over the river, and through the woods

Or, over (at least the pond) and through the woods. But not to Grandmother’s house!

Today started off like any other day. Except I decided to work The Plan.

See, I’ve been after the rabbit for a while now, and who should move in to the pond next door but a “swamp kitty”. I’ve seen it in our – er, MY yard and I’ve seen it sitting in front of the woods. Today, after a nice long nap and lots of cuddling, I was refreshed, and decided to act.

I let Mom know I had to “go” and when she let me in the backyard, I bolted for the fence, where I have conveniently been making a hole with my head. The hole is behind where a bush is sticking through the fence, so Mom and Dad did not see me making it, and it’s not visible from the house. I felt all, “Shawshank Redemption” and everything. Mom chased after me but wasn’t quick enough. Before she could clear the patio, I was in the woods.

Mom had to cut through the house, go into the front, then to the side of the house into the woods to find me. She saw me “going” in the woods, but when I saw her, I stood up and ran for it. I was gone a while.

Mom ran back to the house, covered in burrs and thistles, and called the Police, the Animal Control Officer, Laurel, and Dad. Laurel calmed Mom down while she cried. “I’m afraid they’re gonna shoot her because she’s a Pitbull,” Mom said, her throat catching, tears sprinkling down her cheeks. “I kept telling them she’s friendly.”

Laurel was in the process of reassuring Mom when I slinked in through the hole in the fence and made my way toward the back door. I was cowering pretty low, but I couldn’t make out the look on Mom’s face. I’d say, “heartbroken” kinda covers it. She hung up with Laurel and checked me over for ticks. (No ticks). But lots of mud. She checked me all over again for blood, and didn’t see any blood, so she knew the kitty and rabbit had gotten away once more.  Mom just said, “Bad dog” and got the lead. She wasn’t even loud about it. I thought she was putting me in the crate, but she frogmarched me upstairs and into the big walk-in shower for a bath.

Mom wouldn’t let me lie down on the human bed because first I was muddy, then I was wet. So I curled up with my blankie on my chair.

Mom says she is talking to Dad about a solution to the backyard problem – either another tether or a “dog run”, since they can’t keep me from breaking the fence. Mom’s not talking to me now, and I think that’s the worst punishment of all.

Woof! Love, Maggie