Wylie’s always had a penchant for escaping. When he was living with Steve and Rhonda, he’d get out of the yard several times a year and not return until he was good and ready. One time, he was gone for more than a week; just as Steve and Rhonda were starting to think he might not be coming back, Wylie walked up to a police officer and “turned himself in.”
Fences have never been much of a barrier to Wylie. I’m not sure he even slows down for them. A couple years ago, I left him in the backyard while I went around front for a few moments. I returned to the backyard just in time to see him shimmy under the chain link fence and pop up on the other side. Knowing Wylie’s background, I hadn’t been counting on the fence for much. He was still anchored to the deck by a long piece of clothesline hooked to his collar. As he stood there pondering his next move, I sized up the situation and determined that the rope was about three feet too long. (Or, from Wylie’s perspective, at least 10 miles too short.)
Of course, it’s not just fences that Wylie escapes through. Within a few months of his attempt at going under the fence, he succeeded in escaping for four hours by pushing the screen door open. Over the past four years he’s also demonstrated his resistance to being penned up by breaking the latch on his crate; mangling the door on his cage; and on several occasions, trying to dig his way out of the bedroom!
With all the meetings during the final run up to Oktoberfest, plus a number of other evening events, Wylie’s late-afternoon walk was frequently cut short throughout the month of September and it wasn’t long before he noticed the pattern. Pretty much anytime I’d come home and immediately take him out, he knew that meant I was going to leave again shortly afterward.
Wylie wasn’t happy about being left alone so often, so in order to express his displeasure, he started slowing down about a quarter mile from home, trying to make the walk last as long as possible. Not a complete halt, more of a pausing to smell every blade of grass.
The weather last Monday was wonderful. It had been two days since the rain, I’d managed to get out of the office at a reasonable time, and for the first time in several months I was finally going to get a chance to mow the lawn!
Before mowing the grass, I wanted to take Wylie out for a walk. But it was already 6:00, there wasn’t a whole lot of daylight left, and I really didn’t want to waste any of it.
Wylie read the signals exactly the way I should have expected.
This time though, instead of stopping to smell the grass, he dropped behind and laid down in it. I turned around just in time to watch as he let the harness slip up over his shoulder. If I hadn’t turned just then, I’d have missed it.
Fortunately, Wylie’s pretty laid-back these days. Instead of running off like he did when he pushed the screen door open, he just sat there and looked at me as if to say, “Ha Ha! Fooled you!”
Quite the escape artist that one.