2000-05-30 - 9:25 PM MDT

May 30, 2000

Canine Caper

A space in a house that I rented from the main renter of that upper floor had a bedroom each for him, two other men and myself. Each of us were individualists in our own peculiar way. None of our idiosyncratic practices clashed, we didn't bring ladies to stay the night, cleaned up our own messes and the common area was split up that one man would clean it one week and next week the duty would be another's.

The main renter was a middle aged man, active, healthy. When he rented at this house his Boxer dog was sheltered by his brother out in the country. He would go out to see his brother and the dog once a week, did the exercise bit and play with the dog awhile and then eat the evening meal with his brother and wife. It seemed to be a perfect arrangement, a big Boxer, in the country where there was room to play, cared for by gentle people.

So, into each life some rain must splatter. In this instance his brother and wife took jobs in Alaska and the householder had to figure out what to do about the Boxer. While the brother was preparing to leave, the dog's owner was frantically trying to find a kennel to take his pet. His resources were limited and the kennels seemed to be charging more than a person would pay for quarters in a hotel. That was plan A, Plan B was to bring the Boxer to the house, build a doghouse and keep the dog in the back yard. The dog was duly installed and his master came in the house and looked out the window and saw the boxer clear the fence and head out. Much chasing, enticing and after capture, attempts to train the dog to stay in the yard were instituted. Plan C then came into being. The dog was put on a long chain with one end attached to a clothes line. The dog had a pretty wide area to roam, what with the chain and the long clothes line. The poor beast was totally unaccustomed to being tethered and managed to run circles around what ever was in the backyard ending up with his nose to the last thing circled. At that point we found out just how good a voice he had ! Plan D was hopefully put into effect. His owner had a six foot palisade fence put around the backyard at his own expense and again turned the dog loose in the backyard. He came back in the house, looked out the window and said, "There, that'll hold him." Whup, with a great, grand leap the boxer cleared the fence seemingly without trouble. Searching was fruitless. Many hours later we heard scratching at the front screen, here was this poor bedraggled dog with cuts and bruises, dirt and grease in his coat whining to be let in. After due deliberation we decided that he must have run afoul of a Volkswagon, the winner of the event was undecided as the vehicle in question was not observed and none was reported in the news as being attacked a crazed animal. Plan E was the result of great planning and thinking, a chain was attached to his collar and on the end of the chain a large sauce pan was attached. This plan almost worked. We stood at the back window and watched the dog try to clear the fence, and he did. But the saucepan and chain hung up on the fence, the dog ended up on one side of the fence and a portion of the chain and the saucepan on the other side. We hurried out into the alley and the owner lifted the dog enough so that one of us could flip the pan and chain over. The whining animal was brought into the yard, the pan and chain removed, then he was put into the garage with his water and food. The final solution, his owner put the dog in a kennel.

At the time I moved out the man was trying to convince himself that the dog was worth the kennel fee or on the other hand, trying to talk himself into giving the dog up. I moved quite some distance away and never heard how things turned out.

I still chuckle at the flurry of fussing the man went through and the web of worry wherein he was caught. I once was owned by a cat . . . . . . . .

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