My Dog Was Houdini In Another Life

I have a bull terrier mixed breed (i.e., "mutt") named Precious. We got her at the pound when she was about a year and a half old. She was found wandering the road, and someone brought her in. She'd obviously had puppies, and was fond of people. All of the ASPCA people loved her.

She sat in a cage for three months before we got her, because her face looks too much like a pit bull's.

She's sweet, friendly, kind, allows my kids to climb all over her and hug her whenever they want. All she does is sigh and look at me like, "Puppies. They're the same no matter the species."

Isn't she sweet?

But, considering what I know Precious is capable of, why was she in the pound for three months? Her escape artist skills are incredible!

We have to keep her on a nice, long leash when she goes into our back yard, or she gets into the neighbor's yard. She'll dig under the fence until the hole is big enough and she gets to go exploring. She actually broke a peice of fence off to get out.

So we put her on the leash. She can almost reach the fence, which is great for chasing squirlies and bunnies, but can't get out.

Or so we thought.

She manages to somehow, without opposable thumbs, unhook the leash from her collar and take off happily into the sunset (which, thank God, usually isn't that far). When she's not somehow removing her leash, she's tying intricate knots in it that requre we crawl under the deck, cursing under our breaths, and wondering how the hell an animal without hands can tie something like that.



Let me show you:

We've managed to solve (we hope!) the leash off the collar thing. Now we have to figure out how to solve the Incredible Knot-Tying Trick she seems to have learned.

How many times did she have to jump over the leash to twist it up like that?

I'm telling you. Houdini.