Looking after grandma for a few weeks
Shes at least 84, and to see her pitter patter around the house, youd think she was closer to 90.But open the door just a crack too wide and blam! Shes out and gone like a shot, running, leaping, jumping through high pasture grass, her ears flapping in the wind as she bounds away from anyone who could even dream of catching her. Weve only known Samantha for a few weeks. She came to us through a classified ad in this very paper. Her owners needed a place for her to rest her weary bones for a few weeks. And the only caveat? Dont let her out the door.She looked as innocent as the sweetest grandmother youve ever met when she arrived. White as snow, shes an English setter (by now, you mustve figured out were not talking about a human here), with docile sleepy eyes, and a bag-of-bones body. It only took her wagging her tail sheepishly, and gently licking my hand (we better be talking about a dog here!) for my husband, Erik, my stepdaughter, Elizabeth, and I to make a collective decision: Wed take care of Sam. It seemed like such an easy responsibility. Since she was so elderly, what could she possibly do? Curl up and sleep, nibble gingerly on dog kibble, and look grandmotherly? No problem. Fast forward (and I say that literally) to July Fourth. Friends and family were bustling in and out of the front door. Thats when Sam saw her chance. Sliiiip. She made it through the mud room door. Sliiiip again. She made it out the front door. Whooosssssshhhhh. She was gone. She could barely crawl up and down the stairs at the house, but get her out in the open air, and fergedaboudit. It was spring chicken central. We looked for Sam for two hours, and dejectedly admitted she was gone. But there she was! About 100 yards away, her ears ever flapping, she was bounding around in circles. We called for her and she bounded towards us. Once she reached us, though, she shot past us. Grandma was gone again. We finally nabbed her as she headed dangerously close to an embankment near the highway. Thoroughly drained, I happened to look over and she was trotting alongside me. I wasnt going to let her get away this time. Grandma was going down. With a little yelp, she was in my arms, leash clipped on. Sam is back at home now, looking as elderly and as fragile as ever. She creeps around gingerly, languishing on the couch. But watch that door. When you least expect, that girl is going to be gone like a shot, those ears flapping as she runs. Carrie Click is the editor of The Citizen Telegram, and the western Garfield County bureau editor for the Post Independent. She never imagined shed be a dog wrangler. Carrie can be reached at 625-3245, ext. 101, cclick@citizentelegram.
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