Underground Railroad, Canine Edition

Saturday, September 20, 2025

Yesterday I was late to work. I had just opened the front door to leave when little Mitzvah appeared, panting and wagging, eager to come inside. I let her in, gave her a cookie, and tucked her into her crate before heading out to discover how she’d escaped. It didn’t take long—bigger, stronger, and endlessly determined Chase had dug yet another hole under the fence. The gap was just wide enough for Mitzvah to slip through, but not big enough for him.

So, once again, I was running late thanks to my nonstop digger. On days when he doesn’t manage to tunnel under, he digs straight down, anywhere and everywhere. The dogs have nearly half an acre to run in, surrounded by a six-foot fence that I’ve even raised to seven feet to keep Chase from climbing or leaping over. Yes, he’s proved capable of both. And in the middle of all that dog space? Holes—deep, straight-down craters that I discover and fill in while treading carefully so I don’t step into one.

As for his under-fence escape holes, I’ve got a new problem. Over the years, I’ve blocked Chase’s tunnels with lava rocks, but I’ve run out of any I can carry. What’s left are boulders too big for me to budge. My substitute solution has been filling empty plastic containers—kitty litter tubs, half-gallon milk jugs, anything I can find—with water to make them heavy enough to block the digs. I’m running out of those, too, and I’m considering buying several jugs of distilled water just for this purpose.

What really gets me is that Chase has now taught Mitzvah his tricks. She’d never have tried escaping on her own, but now she knows to wait while he digs and then slip through the opening he makes.

I wouldn’t care as much if my property didn’t back onto a road that’s grown dangerously busy with fast-moving cars. This used to be a quieter stretch of countryside, but Central Oregon has exploded with growth. The through-roads are jammed with frustrated drivers, and I come home every day wanting only one thing: the dogs safe inside, far from that traffic.

— Diana

His Escape-Hatches

Introducing an adorable puppy (3 years ago)

Tuesday, September 09, 2025

Lately, we’ve had steady rains—not downpours, but enough to soften the soil. Chase, my strong and stubborn young dog, has seized the opportunity to resume his favorite pastime: escaping. Almost daily. His little buddy, Mitzvah, ever watchful, waits until Chase digs wide enough for her to slip through—and she’s the first one out.

So far, neither has strayed far enough for a search party. More often, I open the door and there they are—wagging, panting, crowding each other to greet me. I swallow my distress, invite them in, hand out cookies, and then return them to their outdoor space. After that, I’ll walk the fence line, hunting for their escape hatch and blocking it as best I can.

Two problems. First, this almost always happens on a workday, just when I’m about to leave. Chase makes me late (again). Second, after three years of patching holes, I’m out of easy, right-sized rocks. What’s left are the too-big ones, and moving those requires sweat and ingenuity.

Yesterday, muttering to myself, I declared for the hundredth time, “This dog must go!” The counter-argument came just as quickly: “But no one else would put up with his escapes. A really good dog like Chase might end up treated poorly—or frequently running loose and in danger.” And so, after countless escapes, Chase still lives here. Along with little Mitzvah, his sometimes partner in crime.

This morning’s drizzle and my work schedule make for perfect digging conditions. After feeding the horses, donkey, and chickens, I’ll haul out the garden wagon to help wrestle a few heavy stones (if needed) into place. Meanwhile, I’m crossing my fingers that today (please!)—Chase, don’t dig!

— Diana

Hauling Along

Friday, March 07, 2025

Despite the apparent recklessness of America’s newly installed leadership, the volatile stock market swings that unsettle me, the widespread neglect of climate action, concerns over healthcare, and the moral uncertainties within the judiciary—despite all of it—I must remain grounded in the activities of my daily life, carrying on as usual, unless (or until) those sorts of conditions force me to adapt.

In reality, I’m already adapting by prioritizing savings. My grocery choices are more deliberate and budget-conscious, my online shopping has dropped significantly, and instead of cycling back into the department store where I work part-time, my paychecks are making it home.

Much like during the “Days of Covid,” I can stay grounded and engaged on my small property, tending to the land and my animals. There’s always plenty to keep me active, allowing most of those bigger worries to fade into the background.

Today, I face the challenge of working with my donkey, Pimmy, as she heads to the equine vet for a blood draw to check her insulin levels and overall health. The first hurdle will be getting her into the horse trailer—she tends to resist loading unless one of her horses is already inside. To make the process smoother, I’ll keep her breakfast light, ensuring she’s hungry enough to be tempted by a bag of hay waiting in the trailer. The next hurdle will be to reload her after our vet visit, but on that end, someone will be available to help.

Otherwise, this day off from my part-time job will be routine tasks—feeding the animals, tidying up around the barn, and tackling some organizing (or reorganizing) inside the house. To prevent a tendency to dwell on political and economic concerns, I’ll stick to my to-do list and focus on getting things done.

Dear Friends: Confusion clashes with our sense of order, inviting a “bumpy ride.” Diana

Hi, Mary!

Saturday, December 07, 2024

The other day, my mail brought a Christmas card with a So Cal return address but not the sender’s name. I chuckled over a handwritten note on the envelope: “Love that dog, Chase!”

I can’t guess how many people read my blogs because Google owns the writing platform and downloads blogs in response to internet queries about related topics. However, I know some readers in Southern California, where I’m from. I mentally played with possible note jotters and landed correctly on Mary Martini!

Mary and I used to work together at Kaiser Permanente. She’s one of the two best-organized people I’ve been lucky to work with, and she loves Chase!-my young dog; he’s strong, stubborn, exasperating, exhausting, and way too intelligent.

Okay, Mary, at the risk of repeating old stories, I’ll update everybody.

Since I last wrote about Chase, he’s escaped, and often again. Working almost constantly, I try to offset his diggings and keep him and his little companion, Mitzvah, from escaping. I continually drag large and heavy lava rocks uphill to my house, where they are lining the dog fence’s bottom, inside and outside. Strong and determined, Chase still sometimes finds vulnerable spots to dig out.

My standalone kennel has six-foot-high fencing and stands on a concrete base. Chase is a fantastic climber, so kenneling him doesn’t ensure his containment. I’ve (again!) worked on the fencing to prevent him from gaining footholds and to heighten his challenge. Now, escapes are on pause, but Chase keeps trying to defeat obstacles.

He wants to be with me, and I love him—he’s maybe the most intelligent dog I’ve known. But I worry about his safety, from vehicles and from becoming lost. I also worry about his responses if he’s loose and a stranger enters my property, for example, to deliver a package.

Taking him to a no-kill shelter and hoping he’ll find a better home is out of the question. First, because he’s so high-maintenance, and the shelters are overcrowded and begging for foster homes.

Mary, this beat goes on, and thanks for appreciating Chase. He will turn three years old in several months, the age that suggests a dog is mature. Regardless, this guy simply is who he is, and in somewhat of a miracle, he’s still here!

Dear Friends: My rounds of “Adventures with Chase” are continuous. Diana

Shifting Weather

Monday, November 18,, 2024

Yesterday, Central Oregon received a ground-covering snowfall in the late evening. That began while I was outside and just starting the routine of feeding my horses. Finally, when I could return to the house, the snowing was heavy. It made for dim sighting and covered my outerwear.

The horses were covered in snow, too. They eat in the open from hay nets hung from tree limbs. They’re not being blanketed because of their thick, fluffy winter coats. Their good coats usually carry them through the season. However, both horses are old, and I closely watch their weights. If my exploring hands start finding a protruding rib or body joint, I will blanket whichever horse it might be, or depending on overall conditions, blanket both.

Pimmy still has the barn to herself. Her hay is in an inside-hanging net; her coat is wintery-thick, and her weight is good.

I’m still leaving my dogs outside while I’m away at my part-time job. The weather will change that, however, when conditions demand keeping them inside. I plan to come home at lunchtime and let the dogs outside while I feed the horses. The dogs will stay inside again when I return to my job.

I really didn’t expect snow on the ground before Thanksgiving. That’s no longer usual as it used to be. Last year, our weather stayed mild until New Year’s Day. Then, conditions suddenly turned cold, and actually “colder than a well-digger’s arse,” staying as such until nearly mid-June.

Dear Friends: Making plans for coping well enough despite complicated conditions. Diana

Toward Fall

Saturday, November 09, 2024

I have the closing shift today at my part-time job. I will feed my horses a final time this day in darkness. Nighttimes, I don’t feed them inside the barn, and I wear a headlamp while out among them. My horses are easy to get along with–infrequently spooky and running around; but dark-time feeding calls for cautious navigating among the large, hungry, and anticipating animals.

All that will become more so closer to Christmas, as the store will stay open until eleven in the evenings, and I’ll have to work on some late closing shifts. I’ll still be challenged to feed horses in darkness, but later, around midnight. And with my dogs barking.

I let my dogs be outside in their fenced area while I work with horses in darkness. I recognize routine barking, and if the barks become intense, I’m alerted of something non-routine. The barks often tell me a deer is crossing the property.

I dislike nighttime noises that might disturb my neighbors. However, my dogs help me feel safer.

I am starting to plan for transitioning to feeding my large animals on a schedule later, colder, and darker.

Dear Friends: Living on a property with large (and small) animals isn’t dull. Diana

Challenge

Monday, October 28, 2024

I’ve looked repeatedly to see where my dog Chase has repeatedly escaped from the dog area. I wasn’t watching the right spot until yesterday when he went over a seemingly inescapable fence section. I saw Chase climb the six-foot, all-wire fencing, perch atop, balance to position himself, and then leap a gulley to reach a supporting surface.

That’s how he’d been managing. Knowing eased some of my frustrations, but countering his escapes from there was challenging. That section of fence needed heightening, but it’s in a high, rocky area where my footing wasn’t stable.

“One does what one must.” “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

So, in the dusky evening, I dragged a leftover roll of fencing fabric from the barn to the needy area. While self-balancing to avoid tripping over rocky jumblings, I unrolled, laid out, and wired a foot of new height onto the original fence. My work wasn’t stable before darkness prevented completing the job.

Nonetheless, after letting the dogs outside again, I watched Chase. He stayed in their area. Later, around midnight, I let the dogs out briefly, and Chase re-entered the house with his buddies.

Today, I’ll finish that section of fence-topping and then do more fixing. I saw partially dug spots where Chase wanted to crawl under the fence. His innate sense of physics makes him a great natural engineer. If Chase learned to read and write, he’d teach much and provide income for me.

Dear Friends: He’s a never-closing chapter that resists containment, needs safety. Diana

Chasing Fate

Friday, October 25, 2024

Yesterday morning, the arrival of winter felt more real because ice was coating the waters for my chickens and horses. I got busy quickly, setting out heated buckets in the coop area and installing water heaters in the horse troughs.

High on my mind was that my dog Chase had been escaping, and very quickly. I couldn’t catch him in the act nor see how or where he was getting out. Finally, I saw and was again amazed by his strength and determination.

I watched Chase rush toward the six-foot fence. Getting close, he leaped directly at the fence fabric, his front feet grabbing high and rear feet grabbing nearly as high. He hoisted himself right over.

He accomplished that in four moves: running fast, leaping high, grabbing with front and back feet, and going over.

I put all the dogs inside my house and then worked, adding wire to heighten the escape area of the fence. Afterward, I fed the dogs before briefly allowing them outside again. Guess what? When the dogs came inside, there was no Chase.

He was invisible in the evening’s darkness; he wasn’t at the garage door where he usually appears after escaping. I checked and rechecked a sight of him. Finally, I gave up, went to bed, and left Chase in Fate’s unpredictable hands.

I worried all night.

When I let the dogs go outside before today’s first light, I saw Chase standing near the garage door. He came inside happy and no worse for wear.

This morning’s worries: Where might the fence need more height? Will more heightening help with containment? Or…?

Dear Friends: The AI-generated blog header is almost exactly Chase escaping. Diana

Daze Off

Tuesday, October 21, 2024

Yesterday, after feeding my horses and chickens, I spent a couple of hours raising the height of a section of the fence surrounding a large area where my dogs may be outside safely and in relative freedom.

I became intent on raising the fence section’s height. My puppy Chase had discovered a spot allowing a foothold that he could access, climb, and escape to freedom. He was freeing himself routinely, and I needed to interrupt his cleverness before he escaped more.

I found some unused fencing in a shed. I wired the extra fabric to the standing fence, lifting the fence top by a foot. I let the dogs out and watched Chase dash to the area of my fix, and he couldn’t climb.

I’d been working long hours at my part-time job in a large department store. I felt tired and decided not to work more on the property but instead go horseback riding. I’d take the dogs and they’d be able to run lots. Unfortunately, the area weather didn’t cooperate. The afternoon became very windy and cold, making me hesitate about physically being in the open and roaming on horseback.

Today is another off from my part-time job. If the weather cooperates this afternoon, I will gather the horses and dogs and head for the Great Outdoors.

By the way, today’s header photo might seem AI-generated, but it isn’t. It’s a photo of Sunni from my camera. It illustrates similarities between “constructed and real,” suggesting how much AI imagery has developed. It also illustrates how images on social media and other sources may confuse and manipulate us.

Dear Friends: The outside temp has dipped to 37 degrees–good gravy! Diana

Doggone Dog!

Monday, October 21, 2024

I’ll finally have these couple of days off from work. The department store where I work part-time is short on employees, so I’ve worked alone in the Jewelry Department. The department has been busy with increasing Christmas shoppers, and I’ve worked long hours.

Last evening, after coming home dog-tired, I was out feeding horses when my dog Chase appeared unexpectedly. He had escaped the yard but not by digging because little Mitzvah would have slid out, too. Chase must have discovered a vulnerable spot in my mostly eight-foot-high fence.

I returned him to the fenced dog area and watched him dash toward the dark side before reappearing beside me, free. Although the evening was early, darkness prevented locating and repairing the weak spot.

Later, I let the dogs out briefly in the middle of night. When Chase didn’t re-enter the house with the others, I opened the garage door and found him waiting to enter. Early this morning, I let the dogs out again. Soon, Chase was missing–this time, not waiting at the garage door nor responding to my calls, and it was raining.

Chase showed up at the garage about a half-hour later. Right now, he’s sleeping; he won’t go outside again until I have located and addressed his escape spot.

Chase is two and one-half years old and started living with me when he was eight weeks old. My property includes a half-acre that’s fenced for my dogs. My others are happy, but Chase is another story. He’s always digging, jumping, and seeking ways to achieve freedom, not because he’s unhappy or wants to leave, but simply because it is “who he is.”

I constantly worry about keeping him safe.

Over the years, I’ve lived with many dogs, some bigger than Chase’s fifty pounds. None ever behaved in manners as strong, smart, focused, and determined as Chase. He wants to be my constant companion, 24/7, which is impossible. Luckily, he’s still safe, and I hope he will age out of escaping behaviors.

Dear Friends: Just another “Chase Story” and unlikely the last one. Diana