Wayward dog #2 – Bella
I grabbed a leash (but not my phone, hence no picture) and took up chase. The well-groomed creamy white and tan creature, however, was not interested in being caught. She loped down the trail, occasionally slowing to sniff around someone else’s dogs or a trash can, but as soon as I got within in 10 feet, she’d dart. After three blocks, I just about gave up, but some bicyclists assured me she was just ahead, and when I rounded the bend, there she was. With a guy, who was gripping her collar.
My relief was doubled when he said he was her owner, who turned out to be a really nice guy. He’d been at the bar and received a voicemail from his roommate informing him his dog Bella had gotten out. He was, in fact, just beginning to search when the dog found him. Smart dog.
Because Bella’s owner was headed the same way I came, we walked together. Within a few sentences, he figured out that I live in the house with the new garden that he rides his bicycle past every day. I started to describe my own dogs, but he cut me off with his own descriptions — “the cool ones who lay in the yard” and the “little one who always barks at me when I ride past.” I didn’t really know what to say beyond that, except, “Yeah, I was planting when we saw your dog but was actually a little relieved for the break.”
I’m still getting used to being the person in the neighborhood with the crazy, evolving yard. We’ve taken out trees and put in trees, built a retaining wall and planted, planted, planted. It’s awesome. I’m so proud of us and excited about what’s to come. But I’m also aware that to some people, this endeavor could make us seem like the neighborhood eccentrics.
So does chasing after lost dogs. This, I felt keenly in the awkward non-response that Bella’s owner provided after I breathlessly explained 1) that I just started a blog about lost dogs and 2) how we recently chased a hunting dog probably two miles before giving up.
Oh, well. It’s not like he could judge me.