Runaway!

The next morning I met Sam, our newest foster volunteer, with the load of dogs. There were two single adult females, Bella and Nellie, both smallish, and a very small mama, about ten pounds, with her three nine-week-old puppies. It turned out the best place to let them out was right in front of my hotel, so we did. First the two single adults had their walk, then I opened the crate that held the mama and positioned the loop of the lead at the opening so as she poked her head out I would slip it on and we would be good. Except that she didn’t poke her head out; she shot through the loop like a circus dog and headed for the street. When she paused we called her, and were hopeful when she stopped and looked at us. But as soon as I took a step, she ran out into five four lanes of traffic, clearly disoriented but also clearly not wanting to come back. She made it safely across to the truck stop, then ran around and under the parked semis as we tried to catch her. The temperature was still minus 10 and we were all freezing.

Every once in a while she would walk over toward one of the doors of the truck stop store, like she was ready to give up and go inside where it was warm, and then she would just take off running for a block or two. Once she came back to the door, and just when I thought she would relax a little, an empty cattle truck drove into the lot, and I swear every door and metal panel was loose – the noise was deafening as it bounced over every little bump in the snow. You might as well have started firing a machine gun at the poor dog, as she was off again for another frightened run.

We’d been at it for over half an hour when I went back to check on the remaining dogs and Sam tried to collect mama, but she just kept going. She went up the road, under the freeway, and headed out of town. Eventually, some people noticed the situation and helped form a posse, corralling the poor dog an hour after she escaped. When I finally got on the road, it was almost two hours later than I had intended. There was another storm front hitting Bozeman in the afternoon and I really wanted to be off the road before it came through.

However, the bad weather began almost immediately. Weather fronts are often preceded by wind, and before I reached Forsyth there were crosswinds so strong that they shook the car, creating ground blizzards. As cars drove over the low blowing snow, it quickly turned to ice. Of the two hundred and eighty miles back home, probably a hundred and eighty were like that. Bella, a little black short-haired dog who initially barked vigorously at me when we first met, slept on my lap for the entire trip. Nellie, and adorable yellow terrier mix with wiry hair, sat as close as possible on the passenger seat and insisted I have a hand on her as much as possible. She is one of the most affectionate and happy dogs I have ever met.

The three adult dogs went to Heart of the Valley Shelter, and I brought the three little puppies home for ten days or so of fostering. They are nine weeks old but tiny – only about two or three pounds. They were quite excited to have my special raw food mix and then spent an hour exploring their new surroundings and playing a bit before crashing after a big travel day. They are unbearably cute, with big, inquisitive eyes, short little legs, and tails that rarely stop wagging. And like the other litters, they immediately decided that on my feet is the place they would like to be.

I am really going to enjoy this bunch.