This story can’t even have a name.


Gustavo was unspeakably naughty. Unspeakably.

The end of the story is, the lovely strangers, his new best friends, drove him home.

In their car.

I can’t even tell you the rest of the story, except that I have hardly ever been so freaked out in my life, and I wasn’t even really mad. Just freaked out and mad with worry.

The gist of it is, he ran away OUT of the forest. The forest where he has gone regularly, for the 2 1/2 years he has been my dog. OUR special forest. The dog who never leaves his Otterpop and his Ruby, his bestest forest running buddies. The dog who has been practicing focus and recalls and having a lovely, wonderful, superfun time of it and acting so, trained.

It’s like he’s tried crack. Escaping under fences crack. He’s tried it a few times now, a new place, a new fence, came running right back. Tried it the next time, found a better fences, stayed out a little longer. Like maybe a whole MINUTE. Went under another one, gone a couple minutes.

And now he’s an addict. It’s unspeakable, but let me repeat the end of the story. The lovely strangers drove him home, in their car.