After my recent post about how Ned chews everything in sight, you may be surprised to find that we are more and more thankful for how good he is.
We brought her home from the pound Monday about noon. She was with us for 2 hours before she ran away. She pulled her head out of her collar, off the rope, escaped the fenced pasture, and left the farm. We were sad. But she was chipped at the pound, so ...
A kind lady found her trotting down the 5-lane county highway and took her home. She checked the pound website, and there was Goldie's smiling face on their site -- they hadn't taken it off yet. The lady got our number, called Adam, and Goldie was back home with us Tuesday morning. We drove to New Bern and bought her a large harness. We bought the cable and hardware for a long dog-run. This doggie wasn't escaping again! Adam put up the cable run between the barn and a a pecan tree, a lovely shady area. After all ... she was bought to be a farm dog, yes? A companion for the bored Ned, right?
As you see in the video above, Goldie would have none of it. She quickly learned how to pull out of that harness, clever girl. And we discovered what kind of dog she is! She's not some mysterious retriever/collie mix (with her long, slender nose). Oh no! She's a Walker Coonhound. Yes, that's right. We went to the pound and brought home a hound, the one kind of dog we've always said we would Never Own. Sigh.
Goldie hates the outdoors. She will not stay in the field. She can easily clear the gate, and that's probably how she got out the first time. And as a hound, she's a runner. So for the week, she's been inside the house where she is blissfully happy. And she's a good housemate. She never barks. She's perfectly housebroken. She's loving and sweet. She's a bit BIG, but she goes outside easily to potty. She prefers a soft couch, and we must shoo her off.
Did I mention she's tall? She can put her chin on our dining table. Food is no longer safe on the kitchen counter. She eats Beau's food and her own. This morning as Adam helped me carry my market baskets out to the van, we heard a terrible crash!!!! from the kitchen. It was the sound of our KitchenAid mixer hitting the floor. Adam had a batch of silky-smooth focaccia dough being beaten to a jelly in the mixer. Our mixer does 'walk' a little, but never off the counter!
This afternoon she had a tussle with Beau, who is only 5 pounds of mostly-fluff. Adam quickly put her in her place. They were fighting over a slice of cucumber, which Goldie doesn't like. Poor Beau was quite traumatized.
So, the farm dog we thought we were getting, we didn't get. Ned is still lonely. And although he could easily jump over the gate too, he never has. He's not interested in getting out of his pasture. He cries for us and chews things in his boredom, but I now consider a few mangled cantaloupes a small price to pay for a good farm dog who keeps all predators away from my chickens and who doesn't leave the farm ... ever.
Meanwhile, we now have our second house dog. We were planning on a new Sheltie. Her name would have been Trixie. But Beau is only 3, and Goldie is about 5, and they could both live until 15 years old, so we may never get Trixie. I don't want three house dogs in 1100 square feet. Goodbye, Trixie. Welcome, Goldie. May you learn some new tricks and forget a few old ones.