Old Dog Learns New Trick

Caywood-- Bella has just returned from an extended vacation with her grandparents in Pennsylvania where, in addition to non-stop love, attention, and positive reinforcement, she was treated to A/C, numerous opportunities to pursue her third favorite hobby (following the riding mower), visits from all her friends and extended family, and bedtime stories every night.

Is it any wonder she’s been laying around on the plank floor (cooler there) sighing heavily since her return?

No, because grandparents are a hard act to follow.

In an effort to lift the spirits of our bored brown-eyed friend-- and provide a measure of entertainment for both of us-- I invited Bella along on the short jaunt over to Wagner Vineyards to fetch a bottle of Reserve Red for dinner. Soon we were meandering down the tree-lined lane, admiring the shade the mature leaves and vines of summer provide. Or, one of us admired. One of us was just hot, thank you very much. Bella’s pace is always sedate, but we were not even at the farmer’s house before she lagged 25 yards behind. My cheerful chattering elicited not a single wag. Stumbling upon a staff meeting of the Caywood Area Rabbit Retinue’s Organizing Team (CARR-OT) did nothing to perk Bella up-- bunnies previously converged in the middle of the lane scattered right and left without a notice from our hangdog hound. Only then did I remember that Bella had taken a mile-long walk this morning with Karen. How many miles does your average 12 year old dog usually walk each day?

I vowed that if the farmer was in his field when we got there, I would ask if Bella could stay with him while I ran my errand. However, the farm machines were still when we got there and no one was about. Onward Bella trudged.

We reached the halfway mark as we turned onto the dirt road leading to Wagner’s. Here, Bella started her patented serpentine maneuver (usually reserved for climbing the steep Amish stairway) on the extremely gentle slope through the vineyard, and I knew I needed to take action. There was one spot of shade ahead, near the ditch and but a few hundred yards from the winery. I tied her to a tree, encouraged her to rest in the cool grass, and reassured her several times before I trotted off to make my purchase.

Ten minutes later, I was bounding back down the road. But wait, isn’t this the spot I tied Bella? Bella! Be-lllllllllllllllllllllla! BELLA? Where was she? Had she headed toward the cool water in the ditch and hung herself? My poor old puppy! Why had I taken her on this death march? I crashed through the brush following the line… and came up empty-handed.

She’d managed to sever the supposedly-reinforced nylon of the leash.

After more calling and more exploration of the poison-ivy filled reaches of the ditch, after heading home because I decided she’d go that way but then doubting myself and doubling back, I saw a dot growing on the rise of the road. Make that two dots. Someone walking a dog? Is it? Could it be? I could make out a taaaaaan looking dog. Yes, definitely tan. On a short leash. And are those white mittens? Yes, the dog’s paws were definitely white. Yes! That was her!

Phil, Bella’s rescuer, handed her off at me saying she had been found wandering around at the (wait for it) Ginny Lee restaurant. Undoubtedly pursuing her first-and second-favorite hobbies: scavenging for food and garbage.

Who knows how she managed to escape her not-at-all-worn-out superstrong leash so quickly? Bella alone knows the answer to that. Yeah, baby. She's still got a trick or two tucked in those mittens of hers. Now who you callin' old?