Not-So-Wild Goose Chase

Yup, Sally, it’s about time I told the story. The other morning, as you were doing sit-stays with our girl, I was cozying up to a mushroom for a close up shot with our new camera. Then I looked up and saw Daisy galloping up the hill, away from us and toward old San Pedro Road. She’d caught a scent that made her want to run to investigate. When we both realized pretty damn quick that we’d never be able to grab her before she hit terminal velocity, you set out for home to get the car to do a neighborhood search. I set out in the other direction after Daisy in hopes that I’d find her nearby. Daisy has caught us by surprise a couple of times before. Once she runs off in a panic, she is completely ruled by her extreme sense of smell. There’s an Oprah show for you – “Dogs who follow their noses into trouble and the humans who chase them.”

So I sprinted up the road, trying not to think the worst. Keep my cool, don’t let her see me running after her. Our friend Martina the dog trainer always warns, never chase your dog. Run in the opposite direction and make them follow you! Right.

I ran up the road, past the last house before the beginning of the park. The family that lives there has quite a menagerie on their acre of land: horses, peacocks and a gaggle of honking geese. I didn't detect any unusual commotion, just the usual peacock shriek or goose honk. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. That’s what you always hear there. So I kept walking, one block, two. Around a bend. Then I look ahead and start to worry. If she had already galloped into the neighborhood, she could be getting into all sorts of trouble. I prayed that she wouldn’t encounter any aggressive dogs who considered her suspicious or threatening.

Then I heard something behind me. The geese were honking louder. I turned and saw Daisy BEHIND me! I crouched down and called her in my most yippee-fun-come-Daisy voice. I didn’t want her to think that she was in trouble or that I was the least bit worried. She saw me and trotted over, all wags and wanting some attention. She was glad to see me. She had no idea how glad I was to see her! Fortunately, the honking geese engaged her long enough to keep her from racing off to who-knows-where.

I headed for home with Daisy in tow, hoping that we might intercept Sally in the car, unless she was already in some far corner of Montara. Twenty minutes later, we were home. We settled down and I looked to see if Sally had taken the cell phone with her. She hadn’t. I wanted to spare her the anxiety of a protracted search. So I just stayed put. She got back in half an hour, much relieved to see that we had made it back safely. Daisy hadn’t gotten into trouble and I hadn’t had a stroke sprinting after her.

It was just another beautiful morning walk in Montara.