The other day, I told you about Mysterious Mia, who likes to eat doors. Maybe the beeping of the security cameras makes her anxious. Maybe she has separation anxiety. Maybe she’s bored.
Or … maybe she’s telling us she wants to be an outdoor dog. She likely spent most of her daytime hours outside at her last home, although she wasn’t there very long. We have no idea what her life was like before that. But she lets us know all the time that she enjoys the open air.
Sometimes she doesn’t want to come in when I have to leave for work. Sometimes when Rob’s parents come by midday to let the dogs out, she decides she wants to stay there. I feel safer with her inside, but our yard is secure, and on those occasions, she leaves us no choice. She won’t come anywhere near the back door, preferring to recline in the grass outside Rob’s studio building. When we return, we usually find her lying down just outside the sliding glass door.
After last week’s destruction, I asked myself why I’m fighting her on this. She wants to be outside. Why don’t I let her stay outside?
Monday afternoon, I left the back door open while I prepped a load of laundry. I noticed Mia lying on the patio in the sunshine. She’s so happy out there; I need to stop being so overprotective.
A few minutes later, Leo was standing in the spot where Mia had been. I glanced up to the hill, expecting to see her at the base of the stone wall, resting her paw (or her chin) on her Jolly Ball.
“Where’s your sister?”
I stepped outside and looked in the direction Leo faced. There was Mia, looking down into a dirt cavern beside the chain link of the dog run.
“Are you digging?”
Mia sat beside the pit and grinned at me.
It wasn’t a new hole. I couldn’t tell how much, if any, of the excavation had just happened. It wasn’t even a particularly scary place for her to dig. Not like this escape attempt. If Mia did dig under this portion of chain link, she’d still find herself within the confines of our fenced yard.
I checked her paws and found dirt under her nails. Incontrovertible evidence that my perfect dog has a mischievous side.
O is for my Outdoor Dog
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