I was sick today, and my plans to walk the dogs with my girlfriend were dashed. To my surprise, she offered to walk them for me.
“You can’t walk them together,” I said. “It’s too hard.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll come walk each of them separately.”
“Okay . .. ?”
I had the pinch collar on the big one and the purple harness on the smaller one. I clipped the leash on the big one and handed Sherry a poop bag.
Daisy, the smaller dog, was not happy when Sherry and Pepper walked off without her. The last time Sherry was in the town, the four of us went for a walk.
I lured Daisy back inside with a jerky treat. But once it was gone, she ran to the front door, whining, then ran out the back-doggie door. I heard her pushing against the side gate, trying to get to the front yard. The gate is six feet tall. I had to replace the four-foot gate because she could scale it with one jump.
Daisy came into the house and jumped onto my chair, then jumped onto the back of it, then jumped off and ran to the front door, whining the whole time.
“So this is what you do when I am walking Pepper,” I asked.
Daisy kept up her cycle of crazy for a few more minutes.
Soon Sherry was at the back door knocking. I stood up to go unlock the door. Sherry explained that Pepper had whined and looked back the whole walk.
I clipped the leash to Daisy’s purple harness and handed Sherry a poop bag, then I ran to the bathroom, because, you know, sick.
A few minutes went by and Daisy came barreling into the house through the doggie door. I walked to the back door and saw the open gate.
“Sherry?” I called.
No answer. Then I looked at Daisy again. There was too much white. No purple harness.
“Oh! Daisy, you little shit! You ran away.”
I found my cell phone and called my friend. It went straight to voicemail.
I stood on the porch while Daisy decided to pee in the front yard. Soon I saw Sherry coming up the street with the purple harness.
“She came back!” I said. “I tried to call you.”
“It’s in the car,” she said, “my phone.”
Sherry looked relieved and angry at the same time.
“She’s a little s*&t,” I said.
“You little s*&t,” Sherry said. “I am never walking you again.”
Then Sherry told me everything I already knew, how Daisy had run circles around her and finally pulled backwards and out of the harness.
I know from experience that my dog can open a gate by hurling herself at it until the lock pops open.
Jack Russell terriers are very smart.
My Jack Russell terrier is smart and also a bit psychotic and lots of neurotic. That’s why she was given back twice.
I’m her third owner and determined to keep her.
The little s&*t.
Sherry says I should’ve named her Houdini.