Taking Bella out on a leash in the back yard can be either an enjoyable experience or a painful one. Enjoyable because we get one-on-one time together and it’s interesting to see see her favorite places in the yard first hand. Painful because once in a while she’ll just take off without warning and fly to the end of the leash, causing a painful, abrupt jerk of the arm. Also painful on forays into the woodsy part of the yard. In and out of trees with small branches poking into my arms and face. I’ve learned one thing for sure: she does not travel in a straight line.

And, now that she’s feeling her old feisty self again she has taken to trying to chew the leash in half so she can be free, all the while bouncing up and down like a kangaroo. This is new, and trust me, not an endearing little act but it is funny. I try not to let her see me laugh.

Of course, her most favorite spot in the entire yard is the woodchuck hole under the side deck. It looks harmless enough, right?

Just room enough to stick a dog’s head into, but certainly nothing else?

Okay. On Sunday we were outside raking and blowing the last of the leaves. Bella was inside, staring out at me through the sliding glass door. Her eyes said mommy please please please let me outside with you. i am so bored and i promise to be good. I fell for it thinking she would just come out and hang out with us. If she got too rowdy I would just put her back inside. I let her out and the glee in her expression said it all. i’m free! i’m free! I went back to my raking, keeping an eye on her. She seemed to be doing just fine up on the side deck sniffing around.

A few minutes later I look up to check on her whereabouts and ... she’s gone! I quickly scan the yard, the woods. Nowhere in sight. I panic. I call out BELLA! Nothing. I look back up to where I last saw her and know she couldn’t have gone very far in the few minutes I had looked away. The side deck. The woodchuck hole. A sinking feeling started to take over me. No. No, she couldn’t. Could she? She wouldn’t have gone under the deck into the hole. Would she? I knew in my gut that that was exactly where I would find her. I threw down the rake and ran to the deck. BELLA! I called. Nothing. Closer and closer I got, calling—now screaming—her name in panic. Honestly, the worst thing a dog with stitches in their belly should be doing is crawling into a hole! I was having visions going through my head of Rick having to tear up the boards to get her out, her thrashing around panicking. I mean, I didn’t know how far she could go under there. I was almost to the hole, waves of guilt and fear washing over me, when out popped her head, then the rest of her body.

There she stood. Muddy and dirty, leaves sticking to her coat, with a big grin on her face. hey mom. guess where i was? I was ready to kill her and feeling (very very) guilty at this point, imagining that she possibly had torn something up inside. I grabbed her collar and promptly marched her back into the house. I kept a close eye on her for the rest of the day for any signs of distress, but she appeared to be no worse the wear from the “hole” experience.  Well. So much for letting her off leash until the stitches come out and the vet gives the all-ok for normal exercise.

When I laid on my stomach on the deck and hung over the edge of the hole to try and get a photo of how much room there really was under there, this is what I got.

So, it doesn’t look like she could really go very far. Still.

As for the woodchuck hole, we’ve added a few impediments to the entrance in the form of big chunks of logs. Now only the head can get in.

awww mom. you’ve spoiled all my fun!

Get over it Bella!

And folks, don’t forget to sign up for my special Christmas yarn giveaway! The drawing will take place on Friday! Don’t miss out!