Breaking the Grip

I am well known for not wearing sensible footwear. I prefer aesthetics over practicality in my shoe choices. Therefore, it was not out of character for me to walk my dog in boots bearing four inch stiletto heels at midnight.

I am sure that my elderly neighbors were quite amused at the antics they could observe at my house. This had actually been confirmed by my mother. For the most part, the neighbors ignored me unless I had a service truck in my driveway. Curiosity typically got the best of them and across the street they wandered to find out what was being done. Since the houses were all about the same age, I figured they worried that they might need to have something similar done, too. Any other information they gleaned about me came from my mother. Shocker! She comes and goes from my home at leisure, adding a plant here, a tree there, a new couch in my living room. She viewed my house as a project to decorate and chose to do so while I was at work. She also enjoyed chatting with my neighbors who have filled her in on many a story about what I was up to during the week.

Chase was sniffing around the front yard when the gripper collar slid off. Holding back my panic, I decided that he probably didn’t realize it was gone and I could grab him before he ran off. That was when I noticed that he was looking at me from the corner of his eye. The sly dog did realize that he had no collar or leash. As I lunged at him, he dodged to the side and avoided contact with my hands. I decided to convince him that I had a treat in my pocket. That didn’t work, either. The dog was too smart for my feeble attempts at treachery. I looked across the street to see if there was shadowy movement behind the neighbors’ mini blinds, and pondered my options. Chase decided to wander into the street. This was not acceptable, even though it was not a busy street – even after hours. I crept up behind my dog; however he chose that moment to pick up the pace. As I raced, as best I could in my black suede boots, my ankle twisted and I fell into a ditch. Horrified by what could be in that ditch, I jumped out and limped back to the house. Chase frolicked for a bit in the neighbor’s darkened yard as I retreated inside and closed the door. And that was how I discovered that my dog preferred an audience, too. Seconds later he was knocking at the front door requesting to be let back in the house.

While I had high hopes that my midnight excursion had gone unnoticed, that was not the case. My mother kept me up to date on everything the neighbors said regarding that particular night. So nice of them to come out and actually help me! Poor Chase…for months after the incident, he had two leashes attached to him at all times. One for the gripper collar and one for the harness. He wasn’t going to slip by me again!

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