Here's a little tip: If you need to open your front door, and you are dog sitting, make sure that you have some shoes on.
Yeah, that's right, the hound dog (did I mention she was a hound dog) got out on me today. I ran after her, in my socks. I guess she thought that this was pretty funny, a fun game I suppose, because she'd stop, wait for me to catch up to her and take off.
As I chased her, a million things went through my head, like, telling her owner, one of my oldest friends, that I lost her beloved dog. I thought about how she was a country dog, visiting us in the city and didn't know the neighbourhood. I thought about how she just loved to follow her nose. I thought about how she did not have tags.
You have no idea how happy I was to see my gravel stealing neighbour on his lawn, smoking a cigarette. I asked him to grab her and he was able to get a hold of her collar. She was not thrilled by this and eventually I got her back into the house. I didn't even think about my feet until I was standing inside the house in sopping wet, muddy socks.
She scared the shit out of me and, I think, herself too. I hope so anyway. She's been very quiet since her "adventure" outside. This is not something I want to see a replay of anytime soon.