Jackson, as I mentioned in my last post, is just two. He is not allowed off his leash outside the house. In fact, he has three leashes.
|"The Gentle Leader". Not Jackson. |
1) the "Gentle Leader" goes around his nose and just behind the ears, so that you can redirect him without pulling his neck, 2) a regular leash that hooks to his collar, and 3) a skinny leash that is used just for taking him out back and hooking him up to the cable on his runner. The first two are used together when we go for a walk.
When he's fired up, Jackson likes to play tug-o-war with his leash. I hate that. I'm afraid he's going to chew through a leash and then I'll have to get him a new one. Dumb dog. So I try not to participate, and just lead him where he needs to go.
Last night, he won. He tugged his leash right out of my hand and ran off through the trees. That dumb dog.
|Not quite. His had MORE lights.|
I was getting concerned that his leash might have become entangled in some trees or underbrush, so I headed to the house to put on some jeans and head out on foot. The jeep pulled back into the street as I was pulling into the drive, so I explained what my new plan was and thanked him for his help.
I hadn't yet changed when the Jeep came back with Jackson in the front passenger seat. Apparently Jackson and the Jeep's dogs were socializing when Jeep got home.
Jackson was wet, as was his leash. Most of these houses overlook ponds of various sizes, so I could imagine he'd gone for a swim. Dumb dog.
I put him out on the runner and then called my hostess to let her know her baby was safe but wet, and she told me where the dog shampoo was. What? DOG Shampoo?? I didn't think he was stinky, but said I'd check when I brought him in. Please, God, no stinky!
That dumb dog.
Stinky like fish.
Great. It's nearing 10:30, I've not even talked to Brett yet, and I have to WASH THE DOG! In my (guest) bathroom. Yippee.
I have no words for the ordeal that was the dog-bath. Suffice to say, water was everywhere, and now I need to clean my shower before I can use it. Dumb dog. I put him straight into his cage for the night (normal routine, not punishment) and went upstairs to call Brett.
By the time I got to bed, Jackson was whimpering. A lot. I thought there was no way he needed to go out again, but then, if he did and I left him inside, I'd have to clean up that mess, too. So I got out of bed sometime after midnight, put him on the runner and sat down on the sofa to give him time to do his thing. 2a.m. I woke up, brought him back in and finally went to bed.
That dumb dog.
Now excuse me while I bake banana bread as a thank you for the neighbors who helped.