Let's talk about last Monday, Family Day. First, while I was doing laundry, she snuck into the laundry room and had a snack from the cat litter box . . . it is my fault for not closing the door, but still.
As I was working at home (when you work for yourself no work = no money, so sometimes you work on holidays too), we went for our walk in the afternoon. This had the main advantage of it had warmed up a little and the frostbite warning was gone. It wasn't our best walk as there were fresh deer and turkey prints, but it wasn't our worst.
As we were coming around the last bend, my boot came untied. I tried to walk with it untied but decided I needed it tied. So I stopped, put the leashes under my other foot and leaned down to do up my boot.
It was at this moment that Hailey thought she saw something in the field about 500 meters away, and after screaming (her screaming not me) she took off. Phod went after her. After finishing tying my boot and saying every swear word I could think of, I headed off after them. I hoped that Hailey would be going after squirrels again. I tried to remain calm and sound so happy as I called "Hailey, Zaphod, Come here." Under my breath I would say what I truly felt before calling them again. As I was walking as quickly as I could, I watched them go through the horse pasture and back out and then to my horror, up the main road (which isn't that busy of a road) and out of sight.
|Awww, the sun|
It was a very long walk home. I could feel my adrenaline pumping and I was mad. I looked at her and said "You just won your award, I want to kill you." I know that is not a good thing to say, but that is how I felt.
For once the dogs both realized I was very angry (perhaps the smoke from my head was an indicator). The completely avoided me for the next hour and I raged while I cleaned the house. While I was cleaning and swearing under my breath, regretting my life choses that lead me to be a dog owner, I started to think, be patient. Look at this like a problem at work.
Tune back tomorrow for some ideas I have to help . . . .