When the dog escapes

There’s this entry in Thoreau’s journals where he writes about him chasing his father’s pig. The pig escapes and runs around the neighborhood. He spends the day trapping the animal, which is eventually caught with neighbor’s help. The pig, which he wrote about when he was 38 (my age today), is reminiscent of our Paul. Our dog, who is unleashed 99% of the time, except when he needs to be washed, flees the house as soon as he finds an opening—usually when the gates are opened for the car to enter/exit, or when Nanay goes out. Instinctively, Paul knows my mother moves slowly, and he proceeds to insert himself in the little window of opportunity. Chasing after him only emboldens him: he thinks you are playing with him. He does not go far (although sometimes he does), but looks back after running a few meters away. When you run in the same direction, he runs a few meters more, then looks back, as if saying, “Come on!”

Paul does find his way back after a foray into the neighbors’ gardens, panting hard, and looking for his tub of water, which he drinks hungrily. But his outdoor adventures can last for as long as an hour. The danger of leaving him outdoors is that he sometimes gets distracted by the smells. Our neighbors reported to us that they saw Paul cross the highway. They added that he seemed to know how to do that safely.  

I have discovered that the best way to bring him home is to dangle food and shout, “Hmmm, sarap-sarap.”

When I do that, Paul looks at my direction. Seeing that I am enjoying a gastronomical feast, he runs back home, expecting his share. I proceed to lock the door and trap him.