Wily Machete escaped from me on Friday night. Having chased him down a few times now, I've figured out that it's best to just grab a leash, give him a wide berth and let him run himself tired. He dashes aimlessly but only within a three-block section of the trail that we regularly walk.
Sometimes, he'll find puddle of water and lay down in it. Sometimes he'll dive under a tree and emerge with a plastic sack looped around his neck and flapping in the breeze like a superhero's cape. (OK, that only happened once, and I desperately wish I had a photo.) On Friday night, I looked up to see him romping through the grass with a fellow bully dog.
Sometimes, he'll find puddle of water and lay down in it. Sometimes he'll dive under a tree and emerge with a plastic sack looped around his neck and flapping in the breeze like a superhero's cape. (OK, that only happened once, and I desperately wish I had a photo.) On Friday night, I looked up to see him romping through the grass with a fellow bully dog.