My dog sometimes runs away. I think he has a girlfriend at one of the neighbors' houses. When I put him outside, I put him on a tie-out, so he isn't just running free. This morning as I was taking the garbage out before work, I saw a blur fly by me, and he was off.
He runs faster than I ever could, and I was carrying two garbage bags, so I just tried to call to him to get him to come back. That didn't work. I went inside and grabbed his leash and a plastic bag. I had to get the bag as though I was really going to walk with him, because he knows if I don't have the bag to clean up after him, I'm faking. So you can gather from that he's run off a time or two before. I walked around the house, into the street, into the woods, and could not see him anywhere. Finally, I had to give up and finish getting ready for work.
When I was all set to go, I had a minute to spare, so I tried to get the dog to come back again. I stepped outside and called his name. I was so happy to hear his little feet come running up the path. Until they ran right past me and into the woods. I called and begged, but he wouldn't come back. Finally, I gave up, locked the door, and got on my motorcycle to go to work. I pulled out of my driveway and into my neighborhood. After I made the last turn in my neighborhood before I reached a busy street, I looked in my mirrors. I saw my dog, running full speed behind me down the middle of the road. I couldn't let him follow me into the busy street, so I ditched my motorcycle on the side of the road, and got him to come to me.
As soon as he was in reach, I grabbed his collar. Then I was stuck. I was about a half mile from home. There was no way to carry him on my motorcycle while I drove, and I couldn't walk with him while holding on to his collar, because he's only about knee high. I didn't see much choice. I picked up my 20 lb dog, and ran with him back to my house. I work out somewhat regularly, but running isn't in my repertoire. Especially not with a 20 lb weight to carry. A 20 lb squirming weight that doesn't want to be carried. So I started my day running down the streets of my neighborhood, in work clothes and a bandanna, carrying my dog, long braid flapping behind me, looking like the crazy lady of the neighborhood. When I got to the house with him, and unlocked the door, he leaped from my arms and into the house. THEN he wanted to go inside. A little earlier would have been nice, puppy! So by the time I ran all the way BACK to my bike, I was a sweaty mess. I was also, then, late for work. And my day only got worse from there.