We knew it would happen at some point. We knew that the deep instincts that have been laying dorment in our huskies for a couple of months would resurface with a vengence. And yes, they would go for it at last. Garden break.
I should have know that blocking the hole in the backwall with two huge paletts, heavy stones, two old baby gates and a plank of wood wouldn't hold 'em.
Well, actually, it held Typhon. He stood there next to the barricade, watching Anouk take off after a cat in the back garden. The cat chose the one lone tree as a safety so luckily I was able to grab Anouk and haul her back to the house.
I reattached the barricade and left Typhon in charge of keeping Anouk in line. Silly me.
Anouk wiggled her way through the wood and stones like an eel and off she went yet again into the back garden while Typhon howled, pathetically, in the garden.
This time, Anouk forgot about the cat and went straight for the mole holes that are all over the field. I gave her a little grace to dig for a few minutes before hauling her back again to the house.
At this point, I tried then to rearrange the jigsaw puzzle at the hole so she couldn't sneak under it or wiggle through it and escape again.
Funny. I never knew huskies could rock climb.
I haven't a clue how, but Anouk balanced herself on one toe and managed to fling a leg up and over the stones. I stood at the kitchen window watching her as she performed this daring move of grace and skill and laughed as she took off across the field, bouncing like a ball of snow through the green grass.
As Ogden Nash said, "A door is what a dog is perpetually on the wrong side of."
When I finally was able to get her back the third time, I reconstructed the barricade in such a manner that now we can't even get into the back garden.