Last night when I took the dogs out for their final walk of the evening, Zeke made a break for freedom, or deer, or something. Our evening routine is that I go out first, Zeke comes out second, and then I turn around to pull Lucy out the door. This time, when I turned around to get Lucy, Zeke dashed down the front walk and jerked the leash out of my hand. I use a retractable leash, which has some benefits for the dog but some drawbacks for the handler. One of those drawbacks is that it gives the dog a running start, so he has plenty of length to build momentum. So he slammed my hand into the door, the leash came out of my hand, and he took off into the night. I heard the leash handle dragging on the pavement as he went down Wildlife Trail, barking all the way.
If you have read enough of this blog, you already know that this kind of thing has happened before. He has climbed over the (expensive) gate we had put on the front walk to keep him contained. He has jerked the leash out of my hand, and out of Leah’s hand. And on the rare occasion when I have let him off the leash, he has simply run off into the woods. When he gets loose, he’s a crazy dog. Sometimes you can hear some barking for a little while, but mainly he just disappears.
Zeke has escaped at night only once before, and his retractable leash was attached that time, too. When I went out to look for him that time, I found him with his leash securely wrapped around a tree. Last night as I walked down the driveway to look for him, I heard barking from the woods behind our neighbor’s house. It was not the kind of barking he does when he’s chasing something. This was more like, “Hey! I’m down here! Come get me!”
Our neighbor’s house sits at the corner of Wildlife Trail and Lavender Trail. I walked down Lavender Trail a little and shined my flashlight into the woods. Two bright eyes reflected back at me. This is fairly difficult terrain, even in daylight, and last night was cloudy with no moon. The land is densely wooded, and it slopes steeply off the road. There are drainage gullies with steep sides, fallen trees, and vines that loop down close to the ground. Fortunately I had just put new batteries in my flashlight. At least it wasn’t raining.
Zeke was waiting patiently with his leash wrapped around two small trees. I freed him and we made our way back up to the street. He went immediately to bed.
When this kind of thing happens, before I look for him I always come back inside and gripe to Leah about how I should just leave him outside to see if he learns a lesson. But I always go out looking anyway. He knows I’m mad when I find him, but I doubt that he has any understanding of why. Any kind of lesson is totally lost on him.
He’s lying quietly in his bed right now. He doesn’t move his head when I go by, but he moves his eyes to follow me. I’m still a little peeved.
Oh well. It’s time for their morning walk.
I guess Zeke’s nature is just to run free. He has found the right home, where your instinct is to keep him safe. It’s a lot of work, those doggies that don’t respond when they hear the word “heel” or “sit” or “come” — My brother has a six month old pup who has been to dog training class. Right now Buxton has one of those cones on his head for the second time because of his reckless desire to crash through barbed wire fences or into the bumper of on-coming cars. Some dogs… they just gotta run.
Robin Andrea — Yes, I think it is just his nature. I don’t think there is anything I can do to train him not to run away. He is a good and obedient dog in most other ways, but I think the only thing that will ever slow him down is old age.