Oh Sophie!

A couple of days ago the dogs wanted to go out. It was around 5 pm, not dark yet, but approaching dusk. I usually go out with them because Sophie is an escape artist. She can still fit through the posts on our cast iron fence, and under them too. We put up netting, but she jumps on it and pushes it down, and then can get over it. We’ve staked the netting to the ground, but it tears, and then she gets through. We put up border fencing around the bottom of the fence and that keeps her from getting under it, mostly.

And recently she started eyeing the fireplace, wondering if she could jump on top of it , and then out to freedom. So we put a couple of chairs on top. That has thwarted that route, for now.

Fireplace Booby Trap

So, the dogs want to go out. But I’m tired, and busy, so I let them out without me. My rule for myself if I do this is to check on them every two minutes, without fail, because if she DOES get out, she can’t get far. Well, at least that has been the case, up until now.

I go out to check on them. Harper and Heather are nosing around. Sophie is nowhere to be found. I start calling. I look in the usual places, the field, the space between our house and the neighbors, our neighbor’s front yard, our front yard. No Sophie.

I run inside and tell Lee I can’t find her. “Come help me. NOW.” 

My eyesight isn’t great. I’m having cataract surgery in January and at times like this it can’t come soon enough. I’m peering down the street in front of our house, trying not to think about Eureka Road, the busy street on the side of our house, the reason we have a fenced in yard for the dogs, instead of an invisible fence.

Lee yells, “I see her!” “Where?”  I scream! “Behind the neighbor’s pool!” This is farther than she has ever gone before. I look over there and I see this little white speck, disappearing into the woods behind their house. Into the swamp.

She was way back in those woods. Scary!

I take off at a run, but not a very fast one, since I’m wearing rubber clogs. I don’t give a shit that it’s been raining a lot and there are large puddles between me and Sophie. Into the swamp I go.

It’s more than a swamp, really. It’s a large wetland, and it covers acres of land between us and the new subdivision. There are lots of places for a little dog to get thoroughly lost, especially if it gets dark before I can get her.

I can still see her though. She’s no longer running in hot pursuit of something, but she’s not coming either. I briefly wish I had some treats, or cheese, or meat, or something. I start crooning sweetly to her, “Good girl Sophie, come on Sophie, come Sophie, come.” Never yell at a dog if you want them to come! She’s stopped now, sniffing. Pees, and then looks at me with her little smile. I scoop her up. Thank God! I pick my way out of the swamp, suddenly aware that my feet are rather wet.

I’m still pretty freaked out about this. I’m a little ashamed that we have let this get so out of hand. Lee has ordered some fencing that looks okay that we can put around the cast iron fence. It’s taller than the netting and it has a pattern that will prevent her from being able to get out. 

For now I’ve taken the dog fencing from around the gardens in the backyard and put it around the fenced in yard again. I had wanted to wait until the ground was frozen so the dogs wouldn’t dig in the plant beds but at this point I don’t care. I just want Sophie to be safe.

This scared me pretty bad. What if Lee hadn’t been home? Would I have seen her disappearing into the woods? If she had gotten a little farther before he came outside she would have been gone. When we practice “come!” she’s really good, but that’s in an enclosed space, and with treats. We obviously need to work on this more.

I love little Sophie, desperately, hopelessly, the way you fall head over heels for a dog. But with this love comes fear too. She’s a smallish Westie, and she’s probably not going to get a lot bigger. She fits into little spaces, and she’s very very curious. She’s interested in the world outside in a way that Harper and Heather no longer are. 

I think I’ve learned my lesson, at least for now. No more going out in the backyard without a person, at least until the new fence is up, especially when it’s getting dark. We need to work on “come!” some more. And we need to stay alert. She’s a mischievous, funny little dog. Who knows what she’ll try next? I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough!

Dog Fencing is Back Up Around the Yard