The Escaping Rescue

Years ago, either '11 or '12, D1 showed up at our house on a Tuesday evening. That was unusual -- I think she had a late grad school class, and typically went right home to Brickell. I knew something was up. It was.

A few days before, some of D2's friends were in a car near the Falls. A small brown dog ran into the street. They stopped, and opened the dog. The dog hopped in, like she belonged there. They looked around for a searching owner, and found none. They named her "Brown Dog." Somehow it was decided that WE should "foster" the strange looking mongrel until the owner was found.

Wifey and D1 knew I'd be reluctant. I had subscribed to the wisdom of a bumper sticker I saw: Life Begins When the Kids Move Away and the Dog Dies. Didn't matter -- Wifey was NEVER going to be dogless...

So the furry brown, low riding dog trotted in. D1 put on her puppy dog eyes. The dog could stay.

Wifey put up signs, and checked at the vet for a chip. None was found. The dog was part long haired Dachshund, according to the Vet. Also maybe some Shepherd, and maybe Chow. But she was low to the ground and sausage like, and we named her Vienna, after the sausage.  The Vet thought she was 2. She's 10 now.

She is full of personality. Also the smartest dog we ever had. Despite checking for holes in our fences, she always escapes. She generally just ambles around the 'hood, until we find her and lure her into the car with treats.

The running joke is she will ALWAYS jump into a car. The day someone else opens a car door -- adios Sausage.

The escaping had stopped, but recently Wifey reported she's at it again. She finds the smallest of spaces, and takes off -- sometimes looking back at Wifey as if to taunt her.

This am she did it to me. I was walking around with her and Bo, the Special Needs Spaniel, and Vienna slipped under the fence around the pond, and scooted to an opening to the street. I had to put Bo inside, lest he wander, and then went out front. A neighbor was walking a big black and white dog, and said "Hey -- your dog is outside." I said I knew, I was typically not such a negligent owner, and tried to leash the escaped Sausage. She struggled a bit, and then  came with me.

I swear she was saying "Ha Ha," like Nelson in "The Simpsons."

So I explained to the adventure seeker that her days allowed out to our large front yard are done. The back is more secure. She can still go there.

We're off to Maine next week, and my nephew of another brother, Josh, will be house and dog sitting. I have to warn him about the wayward strange dog. Then again, he's younger and energetic, and fetching a dog will be easier for him.

Ah ...life begins when...