Ogle (Still) Lives Here

I haven’t written in a while. Life has been busy, and on the dog front, things have been relatively peaceful since the Dog on the Roof Incident. Ogle turned four on June 21. All grown up, but still a work in progress. We’re getting there on stay and recall, slowly but surely. We’re being brave, doing more walks on narrower, heavier used trails and getting past people and most dogs like a boss. I mean, sure, there’s still the occasional losing of the shit, the ferocious barking at the mail carrier, the random dog vomit or muddy ball in the house, the 6am zoomies. Not always fun, but pretty standard life-with-a-dog stuff. 

And then yesterday, she decides she is the Incredible Hulk.

I got home from work, and we went out in the backyard for her evening pee & play. I was hot, I was tired, and I tried to make a quick phone call while Ogie did her business. I didn’t see the deer in the lot behind ours. 

But Ogle did. She froze. She stared. And then she took off, full force, barking and yelping…and rammed right through the one part of the back fence that is (was) made of wood. Wood that I now know was completely rotten. Like in a cartoon, the fence just implodes, and off she goes. 

Fortunately the deer she was chasing did not double back toward the New York State Thruway behind our house, but headed around to the front and out to the street, where our neighbor just happened to be. Timing is everything. Ogie loves her, and when she called, Ogle came. By the time I got my flabbergasted shit together and gathered my dog catching kit (slip lead, high value treats, dog whistle) and headed out front to chase her down, my wonderful neighbor was already marching her home by the collar. Looking, as always these kinds of scenarios, extremely proud of herself. 

I got her inside and she flopped down on the nice cool kitchen tiles, grinning and panting. I flopped down next her and sobbed.

I know, pretty ridiculous. My dog made me cry.

But you see, I’m just getting over COVID, and I’m super busy at work. It’s about a thousand degrees outside, my house is a mess and the garden is full of weeds. My mom is in the hospital with a broken hip, and my husband is away for three weeks, working on a renovation job upstate. I try so hard to do the right thing with her and right now I just can’t.

Dogs can be our greatest comfort in times of stress. But it really sucks when they ARE the stress.

(PS. I did regroup. Took her out back to do some calm the fuck down training. Drove her down to the river for a walk and a quick swim. Then locked her in the house with a bone to gnaw on and fixed the damn fence. And today is a new day, right?)