Monday, June 20, 2011

Wayward dog #2 - Stella (again)


I totally called it. We had a crazy storm on Friday night/early Saturday morning, and I said I bet we found a wayward dog sometime Saturday. I figured it would be some new dog, though.

Stella hadn't quite made it to the trail when I first saw her this time. She was nervously making her way through the neighborhood, randomly running from yard to street. Before greeting Luke and me (which is how I caught her), she nearly got hit by a car.

I should have known that was too easy. Not five minutes after I called her owner, skinny Stella slipped out of our backyard gate with Zach. So began a 20-minute game of chase as she zipped around the neighborhood a couple of blocks over. Her most infuriating trick is lying down in the grass as if she's tired and looking at you with eyes that beg for a pet. As soon as you get close to her, she takes off again.

Fortunately, she ran right up to a young couple and their son, who, as the owners of a sweet brindle pit bull named Zeus, were willing to help us nab Stella. Enticing her with french fries, their child, the chance for a car ride and the chance to go inside still seemed to take forever. But someone finally snagged her collar, and Zach fashioned his belt into a makeshift leash.

When we got back to our house, Stella's owner was pacing our property in confusion. He seemed embarrassed that I was returning his dog for the third time in about a month. (Apparently, this time storm damage messed up their fence.) As he put one of those slip-leashes the vet gives you around the dog's head, he explained that she's supposed to be part Greyhound. No wonder she can run.



The neighbor's redbud got split by the wind.
One of her backyard trees also was struck by lightning.
Here's a little on the storm:

I was pretty much in a writing trance when I realized that my big dogs were acting extra nervous and there was a near-continuous rumbling outside. At first I actually thought someone was rolling our empty rain barrels down the street, but then I saw a flash. And another. And another.

This limb nearly destroyed one of my garden beds.
I peeked through the mini-blinds and saw that the tree branches were dipping in all directions and with furious speed. And then I realized that a huge chunk of our sycamore tree had broken off and seemed to have landed square in the garden bed directly in front of my kitchen window. My heart sank for the baby cucumbers, peppers and tomatoes. And I started panicking over the fate of all the baby fruit trees that we planted a few weeks ago. Fortunately, though, in the end, everything survived, and we ended up with some extra firewood, and a whole lot of leaves for mulching.



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