Outside My Window...: Man's Best Friend...

They say that a dog is mans best friend. However, for some reason, my dog (and all other non human species in my home for that matter), just wants to escape. Henry, aka "Houdini" attempts to escape on a frequent basis. Sometimes he's successful. Other times he's busted before he can get anywhere. And then other times, he just plain FAILS. But no matter what...we always seem to get him back.

Before he was even officially adopted, we took him to North Carolina for a visit with family. When we arrived at midnight, Katherine was walking him in the yard before taking him inside. He wiggled out of the leash and took off, just as a nice big thunderstorm started up. We chased him for almost two hours before he finally cowered down and we could scoop him up. He did it again the first time we took him to my parents. Soon after we officially adopted him, I woke up in the middle of the night to find that a thunderstorm had blown our front door blown wide open. Of course, Henry was gone. We searched for 2 hours before I finally found him running down North Belair Road. I'm so thankful that it was the middle of the night because I'm almost positive the sight of me chasing him out of the middle of the road in my pajamas in the rain was QUITE a sight. We got him home though, after a LONG night. Then there's the times he's crawled through a loose fence post, we've searched for hours at a time and given up, only to hear him crying in the middle of the night to come back home. And finally, there's the scary failed attempt- the time I thankfully came home for lunch one afternoon and heard an odd whining outside. I found him pinned under the fence after he attempted to dig under and was a little too big to fit. :( No telling what would have happened if I hadn't come home.

Because Henry was likely abused before we adopted him, he is a very skittish dog. Often times even after almost 5 years of being with us, he will run away from me. He will freak out at the slightest noise. But then again, there's times when he runs to me for comfort if it's thundering outside. Or the time that I'll never forget- when I received news that my grandfather passed away. I sat in the floor crying. For the longest time, Henry didn't know what to do. Then, he walked right up to me and laid right up against me, as if to say "I'm here."

So I guess the saying is true...I guess he is man's best friend. If he didn't like us so much, he wouldn't want to come back home, right? If he didn't like us so much, he wouldn't get so mad when we leave him alone and tear everything up, right? He wouldn't come running up and jump in my lap at the sound of thunder, right? I sure hope I'm right...cause no matter how many times he chews something up, runs away from us, or whines at the top of his lungs when we come home after a long day, he's a good boy, and yes...he's a good friend.