This morning I put the dogs outside and went to my home office, only to get a phone call a few minutes later from my old hippie neighbor across the street and down the block.
"Hey man...I think one of your dogs is over at the asshole's house."
Old Hippie Neighbor and the Crazy Cat Neighbor do not get along.
I sigh. "Which dog?" I ask.
"Uh, I think it's the nice one."
That tells me everything that I need to know. Without even looking out in the dog pen to see who isn't there, I just open the door and yell for Belle.
A few seconds later, a little black and tan streak bounds back through the border shrubs between my house and the Crazy Cat Neighbor's place and comes right up to me at the door, panting and happy as a little clam. She comes inside and goes to the kitchen, waiting for her cookie, the reward for coming when called.
Much as I appreciate the way that she comes right back when summoned, I've got to find some way to get it through her head that just because she can tunnel out of the pen, that doesn't mean that she should.
Kudos to Murphy for not following her out. When he's over at the Cat House, he doesn't come back when called.