(blogger's note...this was written on December 22)
So there I was, trying to leave my house this morning to go to work... I had my hands full as usual: work bag, purse, coffee, gift for lady at work who does countless favors for me, gift that needs to be exchanged for correct size for needy family I'm adopting for Christmas, car keys, phone...you get the idea. I thought I had enough space/distance to get out the door before Jesse (my newest foster) could make it from the other side of the table to the door...alas I was mistaken.
She houdinied right through my legs and off she went. MIND YOU...today is the one freaking day that I have heels on...I never wear heels...at least not to work. But I have a memorial service to attend tonight for the son of a recently retired co-worker. Very sad story...but I digress...
So there I was...wearing heels and nice clothes...and hands full of stuff...and Jesse is a blur down the street. I drop everything and start running...and yelling her name...and trying every combination of "Jesse" "stop" "sit" "stay" "play dead" "come here right f*cking now" to which she is oblivious (pretty sure the neighbors are NOT though.)
I chase her from yard to yard to yard to yard, she's dodging me around trees, through fake fences (who the hell builds one section of a fence that is attached to nothing...and is really just a free standing section of chain link...stupid neighbors!), across the street to the Teco Yard, down the tree line (by the way, it's a really, really long tree line!) back across the street to a neighbor's house where she is attempting to say "hello" to the big ass dog behind the fence..she's really engaged with this dog (who looks like he wants to eat her) so I creep up and launch to pounce on her...and she's gone again...across the street to Riley's house...the basset hound...who's howling up a storm probably b/c I'm still yelling my fool head off (oh, by the way...I'm sick, been sick with a sinus infection/cough since last week...so running and yelling do not bode well for me right now...)
She squirrels herself around the house and winds up inside the screened in front porch (which by the way looks like a scene out of "Hoarders") so now I know I have her...because there's only one way out...and I'm certain she's looking at the piles of teetering crap and thinking suddenly what a bad idea it was to go in that particular porch...I call her name one more time and she creeps out to me...but looking past my shoulder to see if there is a way out.
Fortunately there is not, I grab her and start dragging her across the lawn back towards home when Riley's grandmother comes outside and says "were you calling me?" (ummm...yeah, I dragged my dog over here and called your name...by the way is your name really Jesse...instead of knocking on the door to greet you like a normal person)
Crazy Lady #1 ME: "No ma'am, I'm sorry...my dog is an escape artist and she ran into your porch...I was just getting her out of there (before she was crushed by the piles of crap you have in there) So sorry for bothering you" Crazier Lady #2 HER "Oh, I could have sworn someone was calling my name. I'm sure your dog just smelled my cats who live there." Crazy Lady #1 ME: (holy hell there are cats living in there...are you freaking kidding me?????) "No ma'am, again, sorry to bother you. Merry Christmas"
And I have no leash so I am holding on to Jesse's collar as she is lunging and jumping and trying to play still...and I am hyperventilating from the wind sprints around the neighborhood and doubled over as I'm now too tall to hold her collar and walk upright...so it takes 5 minutes to just get her back across the street to my front door... I am thankful that I put my "foster tag" on Jesse the night before (has my name and number and Troy's name and number, and our address, seen as most people in my neighborhood would NOT take the time to take a dog to be checked for a microchip)...I took her old family's tag off as it didn't even have her name on it, just a long distance number. Didn't even have her name on the tag.
Jesse is safely at home, I am certain my boy Patrick is having a little chat with her right now about how she better straighten up and fly right...because Momma Dianne doesn't put up with that nonsense.
Granted...I'm sure it's going in one ear and out the other...she is a pyr after all!! She's lucky she's cute...just saying.

