Owner Catches Me in the Act

I am only in the crate for a brief time—before she goes to bed that night, Owner lets me out. I follow her to the bedroom and jump up on the bed. I lay my head low in submission, and Owner pats it and even gives me a belly rub. I really hadn’t meant to growl at her, but she shouldn’t have left me for so long. But apparently I need to get over it if Owner and I are going to live in peace.

That night, I pad out to the living room area while Owner is sound asleep. I plop on the carpet and star out the sliding glass door. What am I going to do? The fact that Owner left me for quite a while suggests that she could—no, would—do it again. I need to protect myself and do what feels right for me. I thought about Max again. Somehow I would escape again and find him.

The very next day I am able to seize an opportunity. Owner is walking back and forth between the patio and the kitchen, filling a watering can at the kitchen sink and then watering her plants outside. At one point, while she’s at the kitchen sink filling the can, I sneak out onto the patio. Normally Owner is very careful about closing the door. This time (rank amateur mistake!), she isn’t. I scurry over to the far side of the patio near the railing. 

I have gained a little weight since Owner brought me to her house, so fitting underneath the railing is tough. But by breeding I am a Dachshund—a badger hunter—and therefore used to squeezing through tight spaces. My ancestors burrowed in dark, small holes looking for badgers, rabbits—anything that moved. So I suck in my stomach and slip under the rails. 

Although I don’t see here (I’m trying to jam out of there so fast I don’t look behind me), I hear Owner shout, “Hadley!” then something that suggest “get back here.” Ugh. I stop, turn around, and start walking back to Owner.

More low-head submission, more trying to look adorable. Apparently it worked, because Owner starts to laugh.