My dog ran out into the street
When all the advice about chasing dogs goes out the window
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I have owned two dogs (one for 13 years and another for nine years). I have walked 84 different dogs and totaled 496 walks in two years. And never once did I lose my grip on a leash enough for a dog to run out in the street. I had a couple of close calls where the leash was yanked out of my hand, but my foot caught ahold of the leash too fast for the dog to go anywhere. But after just 12 days of owning a 4-month-old puppy (5 months next week), and I almost ended up puppy-less.
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All the dog training and dog pet sites tell you to never chase after a dog when it runs. I remembered that in a split second, squatted and called her name. But puppies, especially puppies in new environments, tend to think everything is a game — that is, if they’re not scared, restless, mating or recently moved. Every time I went outside, I could feel my puppy wanting to get closer and closer to the edge of the street. She’d decided that’s where she wanted to poop most, no matter how much I insisted she move closer to the sidewalk areas of the grass (and stay out of our condo main lawns, in which busybody me firmly planted “Keep Off the Grass” signs).
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So when she made one surprisingly strong jump and I lost ahold of the leash, I immediately thought of all the tips I’d read in dog training classes and videos but never in 30 of my 39 years had to use. I said her name in an even tone and squatted down, hoping she’d run toward me. But the street clearly looked more interesting to her. To my astonishment, this people-watching pup ignored the older gentleman and the athletic jogging woman, who were about 10 feet away from me and in her direction.
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Panicking was not going to help, but cars were moving along my street. So while I watched the man and the runner swiftly move to get ahold of her leash, I knew where she was headed —across the street and gunning toward a fruit tree I have refused to let her eat from. I bolted into the street, waving my arms for both sides of traffic to make sure if they couldn’t see my 16-pound Hound mix, they’d damn sure see [insert social isolation weight here] pounds of me. Luck was on my side, and there were very few cars and vans on what is normally an extremely busy street.
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The guy jogged into the street. The jogger darted back and forth. I ducked between cars and almost got ahold of her leash before she bolted back toward where we started. And to my relief, the jogger was quick enough to grab her leash.