My enthusiasm for dog ownership waned drastically as I watched Boris run through traffic on Stark Street. He enjoyed far too much his long escape from the back yard.

It was my fault, since I had let him out back without remembering that I had left the gate open. But having chased him for blocks, in sandals, as he teasingly lured me on, I was now frustrated, angry, and feeling that the dog's doom was imminent. How to explain to Mrs The Fyd that I had killed our dog, a scant two days after adopting him from the humane society?

Thankfully a junkyard dog and a rusted Pontiac served to cow and trap Boris and so I was able to corral him. Then followed a hunched, collar-dragging march back home. Tired and angry, that was me.

Thus is confirmed that obedience training, and training, and training, are always needed before the dog can be trusted and the owners can relax their guard slightly. It's not the dog's fault, and he's a beautiful beast. Appropriately, here is a picture showing him running, off in the distance:

http://www.geocities.com/thefyd/