John Wayne

Let's talk about dogs for a moment.  I have one, errr, rather had one.  He's gone now.  I hate him.  He's a jerk face. 

He started off the cutest little puppy.  You might remember his pictures.  He would fall asleep on his back on the couch like he'd just smoked himself into a chair.  He was hilarious. 

Then he grew up, and became less hilarious and more obnoxious. 

Especially over the last couple of weeks.  He decided it's funny for me to chase him through the neighborhood when he escapes from the backyard.  And by through the neighborhood, I mean a mile or two down the road. 

I also had to bail him out of doggie jail a couple of weeks ago. That was awesome.  Not. 

So this last weekend we were in Logan.  He was staying at a friends house.  He was in a fenced kennel with a pallet floor, inside a fenced back yard in the middle of nowhere (well, Lewiston, but that's like nowhere, right? )  Sunday night I go to feed him, and what do I see?  A gaping hole in the ground next to the gate to the backyard.  My heart sank.  He was most definitely gone. 

He had eaten through a pallet.  He had dug under a buried fence.  He had shimmied through a tiny hole in the ground and escaped into the Northern Utah wilderness.  I drove around, knowing he was long gone, not sad about that, but sad that I didn't know where he was. 

He was gone.

Sunday morning, a friend convinced me to call animal control just to check if he had been turned in.  First of all, I didn't want to call because I didn't want him back, second of all, I couldn't afford the $100 bail for him.  Again.  But I knew I had to check.  So I called.  And guess what?  A nice officer had found him the night before on her front porch.  She took him in, and fed him.  So I had to drive back to Lewiston to pick him up. 

He was saved. 

Then we took him to a friends house for a couple of minutes so I could gather my things together before coming home.  I left him in her backyard, which also houses 2 other dogs.  In the few minutes I was inside, he managed to dig under the fence and escape.  Again. 

He was gone. 

I walked around the corner, and sure enough, he was just sniffing around, peeing on everything like he does when he escapes.  But this time he actuall came to me when I called him.  I think he knew his number was up. 

He was saved. 

So now, he sits at my house, awaiting his pickup tomorrow.  So by the time this publishes, he will be gone.  I'm sad to see him go becuase I love his cute old man face.  And his soft ears.  And the way he snores like a fat man in the mornings.  But I won't miss him shedding and jumping and making me look like a fool chasing him around in my jammies and hooker boots.  (They were the closest shoes I had, don't judge me). 

So John Wayne, best of luck.  And try and keep in the fence, okay?