It's super windy in Colorado today. I hold off taking out the garbage as long as I can, then finally blow out the back door, dragging a ginormous bag of trash along behind me. I wrestle the back gate open and am trying to stuff yet one more bag of trash in our overflowing can, wondering why our trash guys, who usually come on Tuesday morning have not yet showed up this week.
All of a sudden, the gate, which I thought was latched, blows open and two black flashes, that I quickly identify as my labs, go flying by me. Star, the escape artist and her faithful follower, Jack, have escaped yet again, the second time in the last two days. I debate whether I should run and grab a hot dog, or my car keys and decide maybe I should just take off running.
Within seconds, the dogs have made it the half block to 26th, a pretty busy thoroughfare. Thankfully, both dogs make it across the street, but I feel the glares of three drivers as I chase after them.
"Jack, Star," I shout. "Want a hot dog?" My two escape artists are no dummies however. They pause only momentarily to sniff the air and then, picking up no meaty scent, resume their mad dash.
I try again. "Jack, wanna go bye-bye? Come on Star, let's go. " The car is another favorite treat, and I think maybe this will get their attention, but that doesn't work either. I look to see if I see any angels that might grab my two wild beasties, but there is no one in sight. We keep running.
Another half block down, there is a construction site. The both dogs are distracted momentarily by a fast food bag and I sneak up and grab Star by the collar. Usually when I get her, Jack will follow along, but that is not the case today. He changes directions, but won't come close enough to allow me to catch him. Instead he stays two or three houses ahead, as I drag Star along, gripping her pink collar firmly in my hand.
I'm afraid to risk 26th again, so I do an about face. Jack pauses, then decides he will follow us. I hear him come tearing up behind, delighted at this new game of doggie tag. I lunge for his collar and am practically pulled off my feet, but I am successful. Jack gags as his forward momentum is stopped in mid-flight.
I get a firmer grip on both collars and the three of us- one slightly winded, middle aged lady and two big black labs, tongues lolling, tails wagging, march down 26th and up our front walk.
Just another day in the life of the Great Houdinis…