We went to lunch with friends today. They have a fair amount of land, a tiny house and many cats. The dogs go in and out, mostly in search of the cats, and the cats hide. We don't bother to lock the gates because the property is open at the other end, anyway, and the dogs come back after a few minutes.
Speaking of which, I remember how proud I was the first time we went for a walk and Nala wouldn't come at the end of it. "Oh, goody!" I thought. "Her spirit is returning." But, having realised that walks are forever, she comes now.
I mean, wouldn't you be happy?
On one wander yesterday, Nala disappeared for half an hour , but then she then came back. On her next promenade, we noticed it had been an awfully long time since we'd seen her. The agony I underwent and the promises I made to God or Whoever Would Listen are easily imagined without my pouring it on. And it was my own stupidity. Shutting the gates would have worked for her, who wouldn't have climbed the hill or the steps in the other direction. Nala goes with the flow (downhill). Anyway, I did find her two hours later -- on the main road, returning from the next hamlet. And, yes, she is grounded: inside or leashed or tied. Whew!