Life With Arlo: Runaway Edition

I was talking to my friend Annie on the phone this afternoon when I (half) jokingly asked if she had any interest in buying my dogs because they were driving me crazy. "I'll sell 'em for cheap," I offered. Despite the fact that the weather was beautiful, Arlo kept ringing the bell at the backdoor until would I let him out, and then he'd promptly turn around and bark to be allowed back inside. Augusta, having zero interest in going outside, wanted to sit in the hallway and bark at cats. The girl is obsessed with cats, and if there's one thing the cats are not deserving of, it's being barked at. My felines are purrfect; when compared to my terrible terriers, they are beyond perfect.

I decided to take the dogs for a walk, and when this occurs, I like to take them one at a time. My intent was to take Augusta first. Arlo, on the other hand, had a different plan, and when Augusta and I stepped outside, he followed. The problem? He wasn't on a leash.

Taking it upon himself to do whatever the hell he wanted to do, Arlo pranced across the street, urinated on a tree, ran in the opposite direction when I called to him, crossed the street again, and then headed down the block. Fortunately, there was little to no traffic on my road and no other pedestrians at that point in time.

Knowing that my dog is an absolute asshole and generally does the opposite of what I want him to do, I walked in the other direction. Arlo (because he's not actually as smart as he thinks he is) followed. He wouldn't let me get close enough to put a leash on him, though, so I veered right and steered us deeper into the neighborhood, away from the main roads. Being the idiot that he is, Arlo trotted along behind me and then raced ahead, believing that he was leading me. What a jerk.

He became even more of a jerk when he then took it upon himself to poop in one of my neighbor's yards while peeing on a bush at the same time. Talented? Maybe... Impressive? Not at all.

Thank goodness my parents live in my neighborhood because it is their house that he ultimately wanted to reach. Having been guided in that direction, he raced around to the back of their house and found that the fence was closed. So I opened the side garage door and invited him inside... and then trapped him and called him a lot of names that are both hateful and well-deserved.

Once confined to the garage, I was able to put a leash on him, and then I alerted my mom to the fact that we were there. She greeted Arlo affectionately and offered to treat him with an empty peanut butter jar (he loves those), but I wouldn't allow any sort of reward for his terrible, horrible, atrocious behavior. Instead, I walked him home and locked him in the backyard, then took Augusta for an enjoyable walk.

The nice thing about Arlo escaping and causing mayhem is this: My friend Nina called because she was walking her dogs, Leo and Brisket, when she spotted my idiotic Airedale unleashed on the sidewalk. She wanted to make sure he was okay, and then told me that the woman from the laundromat had seen Arlo out and about and was apparently knocking on my front door. Nina explained that she was pretty sure I was aware of the problem. (We hadn't yet spoken on the phone at that point). That's pretty nice though, isn't it? That people care about my dog, I mean. And care for him.

Although Arlo and I aren't yet on speaking terms, I imagine we will be by later this evening. Because he's so cute, he's hard to stay angry with for long stretches of time, but he annoys me more than just about any pet or person I've ever met before...