My parents are using the 9'X 9' storage shed in our backyard to store furniture and boxes belonging to my brother and sister. Extra stuff they don't need right now since they are crashing with friends (brother) and away at college (sister). Over the past few days my dad has brought over three seperate trailor loads of stuff. We don't mind loaning them the shed. We weren't using it. It sits there empty, hidden behind our gigantic garage. Actually, I feel great loaning my parents the space since they have done so much to help me out over the years.
The only flaw in this great plan was that our back gate was left open the night before last. We discovered this was the case at about 9:20 p.m. when it was pitch black outside. DH went out front to watch for my parents, who were bringing the final load of the night, and Gus came running up to him.
!!! ??? *bleep bleep bleep*
A quick check showed that our social butterfly, Gus, and our evil dog from hell, Chloe, were safely in the yard and behaving themselves. But Shelly, the granny Sheltie, had taken off. She was probably humming the "Mission Impossible" theme song under her breath as she scampered away from the Haven.
I'm FREEEEEEEE!!
That stinker. Of all the dogs to spring themselves from the joint, I suppose its best that Shelly was the one. Gus is too darn cute. Someone would keep him. And Chloe is a sweet girl, and much better than she used to be, but I worry she could get scared and nip someone. I can't see her actually BITING anyone anymore. She's been given so much love/support/training/boundaries by us the past few years since we rescued her, but why risk it? Yikes. Shelly is ... old. Beautiful, sweet, but old. Someone would have looked at her tags and called us, I'm sure.
My parents hopped in their Jeep and drove around until they found our little escapee. She was only a few streets away. I'm glad she wasn't missing over night. We'd have gotten no sleep.
Crazy dog.
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