The Great Escape

The youngest and fluffiest member of our family has become as escape artist! To be fair, I don’t blame her as I often dream of running away, perhaps with an apple and a box of tissues tied up in a handkerchief tied to the end of a stick slung over my shoulder. You know, old school style!

Once, when I was about seven, I had a strong disagreement with my mother, probably over something VERY important like me chucking a tanty because she wouldn’t buy me a Strawberry Shortcake Doll, and I thought to myself “That is IT! I am running away!” I told her such and she told me that she would miss me which made me even more irate. I shoved a pair of undies into my school bag and then reality hit me.

Where would I go? What would I eat? Surely the Boogie Man roamed the streets every night looking for stubborn seven-year olds to gobble up. So I did what every rational brat would do, I yelled goodbye from the front door, slammed it from the inside and then silently crept back into my bedroom and rolled under my bed.

I spent hours there, staring at my Holly Hobbie wallpaper. Occasionally I would see Mums’ feet walk past as she got along with her day. I went though every single emotion known to the human form. I was super pissed off, then I wept for a bit, then I got bored and had a little sleep. I was despondent, then irate again. Why wasn’t she on the phone to the police demanding a slew of search dogs to assemble on our front lawn with the Channel Seven Chopper landing on the street ready to film my crying Mum holding a photo of me, pleading with me to return? Did she not care at all?

Eventually I got super hungry and slunk out into the kitchen to inform her that I was back. She was all like, “That’s nice!” and then I put the whole messy incident behind me. Until now.

But back to Isobel Barbara Woog. Yesterday I realised that she was not doing her usual job, which was to shadow my every move. I yelled her name and nothing. Nudda. Silence. So I went a searching the house and yard. I wandered the streets yelling out her name before she popped out of the driveway of Four Doors Down Douglas. Chastising her, I picked her up and took her home. And hour later, she was missing again. This time she went on a huge adventure for about an hour while again, I wandered the streets yelling out like a mad woman.

It is not uncommon in my suburb to come across an escape artist dog. Two notorious members of this club are Paddington and Chelsea, a couple of gorgeous border collies who will quite often turn up on my doorstep. I will text their Mum and let her know that I have them in custody.

Yesterday Mrs Goodman popped over for a cuppa, and being the efficient woman that she is, she found the hole in the fence and plugged it up good and proper. She is practical because she grew up on a farm in South Africa. And that ended the adventures of Isobel Barbara.

Do you have an escape artist at your joint?
Did you ever run away as a kid? How far did you go?

  • Donna

    I run away to the outside toilet age 5. Lack of imagination.

    Strange that now at 48 having two young children I still try to escape to the toilet.

  • Bee

    maybe I was 7 and sisters 4 & 5. We ran away in our pjs on our tryke. The middle one started blubbing as soon as we were out of the driveway so we had to go home.

  • Lauren Russo – Love_Live_Loz

    Our biggest pooch is an escape artist. Generallly she would just dash out for a quick splash down the creek or into the neighbours yard to round up her chooks, but it was stressful! So we pulled the (dodgy) fence down and rebuilt an 1800 high timber fence.
    Well…as a rescue pup she had a rather determined nature…. and so that big beaut timber fence did sweet FA to keep her in. Then one day out on her adventures – she got hit by a Kia Carnival while crossing the road. We heard the thump but thankfully – not a scratch on her (but a not-very-pleasing $1000 repair bill for the Kia I should add)! We couldn’t risk her being hurt again and we now have a perimeter zap system. She knows the boundry well and has never tried to escape again! So all in all – shes costs us a fortune in a new fence, panel beating and an expensive system to keep her safe – but she is without doubt worth every cent!

  • The painters are in banging about and generally popping up at windows scaring the shit out of me so I would rather fancy running away with Dog and a sanga about now. Looks fucking fab tho.

  • Tracey

    The only time Rambo has tried to escape was when there was a massive thunderstorm and he got scared. Mostly he just sleeps and can’t be bothered going anywhere.