Remember my post the other day about my neighbor hating my dogs? Well about 2am last night, I told my dogs goodnight. About 7 am, I get a phone call from an angel named Stan. My dogs are FIFTEEN MILES from home. I look in the backyard, sure enough. They're gone. Remember how I said I'd built a double fence on the BIT$$'s side? BOTH gates are wide open. My son can't open them. My dogs can't open them. My husband and I didn't open them. They have freakin sliding locks on them!
My husband says not to jump to conclusions. Perhaps the dogs figured out how to open both gates, met a homeless man and followed him all the way to the park. (This park is known for it's homeless encampments.)
It's hard for me to believe that story. My dogs always stick around if they get out. There are to many animals in the neighborhood that they are anxious to meet for them to go far. My dogs would have to mark their territory on every yard on the way, say hi to every dog and person they saw, chase every cat they saw, and I am sure would get hit by a dozen cars on their trek. There is no way they made it 15 miles on foot in just one night. (And what homeless guy is going to walk that far at night?) This isn't 15 straight miles, this is from one end of the city to another. That is a long way, walking through a city.
The family that had them appeared to be homeless and were hoping to keep my dogs. They loved them. When I pulled up, there were about 15 of them, playing with my dogs. My dogs were having a grand ol time. I gave them reward money at first the guy refused. Then the man started crying. He said that they really needed the money. I so wish that I could have given them more, but I just started back to work on Monday from my shoulder surgery and my disability checks had been delayed.
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