A dog is loose and the chase is on
Just to demonstrate what Eastsiders do for fun, I'll tell you the story of the lost dog. Though in all actuality, she wasn't really lost. She was more like "escaped." On the lam ... on the run.
It started when I called my daughter to see where she was, and she said the words that make me cringe.
"There's a dog loose."
I know what that means. When there's a dog running around the neighborhood, we go into full commando mode, but this time was one for the record book.
I joined up with her at the field around the corner from the house. Sure enough, there was a dumb little dog running at top speed at the bottom of the hill. Just then, another lady pulled up and said it was her son's dog, he was out of town, and the dog had escaped from the dog sitter. As we were talking, the little dog raced past us and went around the corner and down the block.
The lady drove away and pulled into a friend's house down the street, so I knew it was his dog. My daughter and I regrouped and thought about going home. Sheer instinct told me to put my running shoes on. We drove down the street to see if she'd gotten the dog, and she had not.
Thus began the chase.
We caught up with the dog a few blocks over. She never slowed down from top speed; one move in her direction and she'd veer wildly off to go in the other direction. By then we had picked up a neighbor, who strangely enough had been handed off a dog biscuit by another neighbor walking her dog.
Which explains why you may have seen a crazy lady in heels running down the street screaming "I have a dog biscuit!" and waving it around like that's really going to entice the dog to stop running and come to her side.
The dog (named Audi) made another break for it and crossed a busy street into another neighborhood. A car chase ensued, with the three of us in one car, the guy's mom in another and a black Suburban that joined in for good measure. We each took turns coming to a screeching halt, jumping out of the car and diving for the dog, who never slowed down and just weaved right through us.
At some point one of us would get left behind and continue the pursuit on foot while the others peeled off. Often the roles would quickly change. At a dead end the dog ran into another field (mind you, we are a few miles away from home now) and I thought she was a goner. I leaped out of the car, ran around the other side of a drainage ditch with the intention to ambush the dog, only to have her veer off and head back for our neighborhood.
That's when another woman named Jennifer jumped in her car to join the pursuit. We spent a little time in the middle of the busy street, our hearts in our throats as we all dodged traffic, when finally the dog went back into the neighborhood where she lives. Incidentally, each of my passengers had some time in Jennifer's car and said she was quite delightful.
Back closer to home, we divided with the false hope of conquering, some of us on one end of the street and some on the other end. I was hiding behind a trailer parked on the street, planning to make a dive for the dog as she headed my way, when suddenly Audi came to a screeching halt because she needed to poop. My daughter was in full pursuit not far behind her, and I saw her waver as she struggled with the notion of grabbing a pooping dog, when Audi cut it short and took off again, this time headed back to the field where we originally saw her, behind her house.
Another car chase and we all gathered at the rim of the hill looking for that dog. By then, the sun was going down and it was starting to rain. We'd been chasing Audi for an hour.
As Audi raced back up into the neighborhood, I screamed at a jogger to grab that dog, and suddenly there were two more people chasing Audi. Frankly, I never saw where that other man came from, but the jogger and the man chased her into her own backyard, where the gate had been left open for just such an occasion.
We all stood around, triumphant, as though we'd saved innocent people from a burning building or something. Everyone said goodbye and we went home, wet, sore and dirty from chasing one stupid dog who apparently doesn't know any better.
We all agreed it was the most fun we'd had in a good long time.