Young: Dogs of differing minds

WACO, Texas — Weeks ago — July, in fact — I introduced you to Sadie and Lucy, tiny puppies who had entered our lives. They got bigger.

You might say they sprouted wings, like locusts. Once they figured they had wings, the backyard that so well contained them was but a launching pad.

Five years ago — like locusts, time flies — I introduced readers to a pup rescued from the animal shelter. From the moment she came, fleeing was never in Bandit's repertoire.

In fact, Bandit was so traumatized, either by previous owners or by her nabbing by animal control, that stroking her was a task. No more. But putting a leash on her remains impossible. And leaving the yard is out of the question.

In other words, Bandit has been the least of my problems the last two weeks. Containing Sadie and Lucy has been my everything.

They could have shared a shoe box when they were found in a pile of seven puppies in February on a country road. We'll never know their DNA exactly. Las Vegas bookmakers are pegging some degree of terrier.

The guessing game about what they are became more challenging the other day when we learned that one ingredient in them is climber.

They'd ended up in a neighbor's yard despite our rather substantial fence. They were chasing the squirrels in the trees, or tracking down sunbeams.

To the home supply store I went. I strung chicken wire along the side of the yard they had breached. The next day when I got to work, the receptionist was paging me. The dogs had gotten into the neighbors' yard again, scaling the chicken wire.

On the Internet I found an intriguing tack: a plastic hood along the top bar of the fence to give a climber no traction. The tip suggested six-inch PVC pipe, slit down the middle. We could find no such pipe, but purchased plastic air-conditioning duct.

Laboring in the sun, a powersaw blazing as we slit the tubing, my wife, one son and I rimmed the yard with what looked like a large black worm. We exhausted many feet of grimy bailing wire affixing it to the fence.

The next day, Sadie and Lucy were out of the yard.

The slippery fence cover had worked initially, but when a dog can jump and get her elbows over the giant worm, a dog can get out.

So, in addition to climbers, we have jumpers. The rest of what's in Sadie and Lucy is still a mystery.

Back to the home supply store I went.

I put the puppies inside the house and started hauling materials, poles and extra-sturdy poultry netting into the yard. To extend the entire fence 36 inches, I sawed out branches and whacked at shrubs for clearance.

At one point as I stumbled back to the car for more stuff, I realized I'd left the gate open. There in the passageway stood Bandit. She was going nowhere, nohow.

That's going to be a problem when Bandit needs to leave the yard. For her last visit to the veterinarian, I had to carry her to the car, staggering and straining. She's gained girth since.

The veterinarian suggested that I put a leash on Bandit and let her get accustomed to the feel. All I know is if she sees a leash headed in her direction, she yanks away.

Yep: Two dogs I'm sweating blood to contain. One you couldn't dynamite off the premises.

Containment is obligation No. 1 of dog owners. We weren't about to chain our locusts, er, dogs. Anyway, state law makes that a misdemeanor if continuous. Good for the state.

Electric fence? Tempting — oh, so tempting — but still not dependable.

So I built up. With poles extending durable rubberized wire mesh from the fence up to a height of seven feet all around the yard, we now have containment fit for a cougar.

That doesn't mean the little darlings — "little" being figurative; they get bigger every day — won't get out.

In the meantime, the elder with whom they share a water bowl will scold, "Listen, pups, ya got it pretty good in here."

John Young writes for the Waco Tribune-Herald.