THIS DOG got loose yesterday.

A man with a dump truck pulled into our driveway to deliver mulch. The truck made a loud jump forward that freaked us both out. But while I stood my ground, Bergie had the smarter, more honest reaction to having an enormous  piece of machinery lurch toward you: She slipped her collar and RAN.

Down the street to the left. Across our street, then back to the right. Through the yards of two neighbors I haven’t yet met (one of whom was on her back deck and told my mother-in-law, “She went that way…”)   Across another road, down the sidewalk, and around the corner, where I lost her.  Thank God she’s big, white and fluffy, and the yards around here are very green right now.  After a few seconds,  I saw her cut in to a yard at the top of the hill. She ran around behind their pool into what looked like a flower garden, pausing for a moment. There’s a chance she pooped in their yard. (I’m not sure how to circle back to introduce myself to inquire, but if you’re reading this, Mystery Neighbors, I am sorry!) Still, though, it gave me time catch up to her.  I was able to tackle her on the lawn between the pool and a fence. Right under the NO TRESPASSING sign.

I got her collar back on (backwards, a la Cesar Millan, so she couldn’t slip it again).  Then I remembered: I had the check for the mulch guy in my back pocket. So we ran. It’s a longer route when you stick to the sidewalks and don’t avail yourself of other people’s backyards. THIS DOG had used up most of her reserves (she’s still sporting a roll of chub that makes her more of a sprinter than a distance runner), but still looked at me like this was the best game ever. Her giant tongue flapped beside her face as we galloped home.  I suspect mine did, too.

The mulch man was not amused. He took the check I handed him and left without a word.

THIS DOG was grounded for the rest of the morning. I don’t think she minded a bit.