The Great Escape

Yesterday Lady and Gimli (our puppies) committed a daring escape displaying the finest traditions of the World War 2 POW genre. Being British dogs may have something to do with it. Perhaps the bravery and sacrifice of wartime canines has been passed down to succeeding generations in oral-barking tradition. Who knows? The language of 'Bark' remains shrouded in mystery to us humans. ..

What is not in doubt is the knock at the door last evening by our dear neighbour to inform me of our dogs most recent exploits in her garden. (We had just returned from a most enjoyable New Years Day visit to family near Oxford.). I was left standing in the front doorway apologising profusely and feeling waves of embarrassment flooding over my reddening complexion. At the same time I couldn't help feeling a sense of misplaced pride at the impressive ingenuity and vision of our beloved pets in managing somehow to get next door. This was only marginally greater than the the urge to 'kill' the pair of them.

I have come to realise that this was no spur-of-the-moment action. Behind the innocent façade of the 'puupy-dog 'act with wagging tail and beguiling looks lurks a far more cunning beast. Meticulous planning and deception was involved. How so? Let me tell you.

The last few weeks I have had a smug self-congratulatory smile on my face. When we moved into this property I deliberately laid down wooden laminate flooring in anticipation of having pets. A mild wet winter in England is most conducive to muddy puppy paw prints. A carpet would have been a nightmare to keep clean, but my wooden flooring simply wipes clean with almost no effort! (Can you see me smiling as I use the micro-fibre mop to clean the floor – congratulating myself at my great foresight?) Little did I know that the dogs were taking advantage both of me and my good humour right under my very nose...

Back to the puppies. Why wait to go on a walk with your Master to explore the world of a thousand smells around you when you can do it yourself? The only problem is the wooden force-field running around the garden keeping you from the smorgasbord of olfactory delights. Pole-vaulting? No, they soon realised that pole-vaulting over our fence was slightly out of their reach. The mechanics are too difficult for a dog (Besides, they are scared of heights!). A more down-to-earth approach is required for puppies. Wait... digging! We're good at that!

They must have heard of the great Tunnellers who escaped Stalag Luft IV by tunnelling under the Perimeter fence. Perhaps they could use a similar approach to their own confinement. The human tunnellers would secrete the sand the had removed from the tunnel in bags in their trouser legs. As the walked around the POW camp they would let the sand fall onto the ground and shuffle it into the sandy camp floor where it simply mingled with the existing earth. The Germans never noticed. Ingenious!

Lady and Gimli took this plan one paw further. They cleverly turned me into an unwitting accomplice. This is how it worked. They would go out into the garden pretending to be playing or chewing on a bone etc. What they were actually doing was far more cunning. One of them would lie near the door pretending to sleep or gnaw at an object playfully. What they were really doing was standing guard whist the other dog was excavating under the neighbours fence.

As soon as a human approached they would issue a coded bark and the Tunneller would simply run up to the human, tail wagging and innocent-eyed. It worked every time. Often they were even rewarded with a treat! The dogs took turns being the look-out or the Tunneller Soon their system was running like clockwork.

Disposal of the sand. Simple. Get your paws as muddy as possible and run through the kitchen into the living room depositing as much dirt as possible on the way. Then all you have to do is wait. Sooner or later the Human HIMSELF will come along and dispose of the evidence with his mop. Jolly decent of him!

And so, I have the past few weeks become the unwitting ally to the adventurous puppies whose plan reached D-Day yesterday. Forty minutes after we humans left for Oxfordshire the puppies decided that the mission was green for GO and finally broke through into the neighbours yard. Weeks of meticulous planning and effort instantly rewarded! What joy! What elation! A whole world of undiscovered garden with fresh smells and adventures.! Fresh green grass under their paws! Canine heaven!

After starting a new tunnel in the middle of the neighbours lawn (I wonder what lies on the other side of his fence?) and having resisted his many attempts to send them back the way they came darkness began to fall. The puppies became hungry. Soon hunger overcame their desire for liberation and they decided to return to the land flowing with treats and delicacies. (This simply happened to coincide with our arrival). They enjoyed being fed and fussed over, satisfied with their Unilateral Declaration of Independence.

I, and I suspect they, will never forget New Years Day 2012. It was the day of The Great Escape...