Tonight when we got home from the last string in a series of strings of outings, events and such, I took a chance. Instead of walking Turkey Sandwich and Fizzy up the stairs on their leashes, I let them bound out of the car and up the stairs freely, thinking to myself, they've been such good dogs lately, I can trust them.
Mom, I can already hear you snickering.
It's not that they weren't good dogs, because they were. But at the top of the stairs, they found a deer and they, well, acted like dogs. And the deer acted like a deer. It bounded (yes I'm using "bound" again. It fits.) down the side of the stairs with Fizzy hot on it's tail and Turkey coming in from the side. Fizzy stopped at the landing, and I, by the grace of god, was able to catch Turkey's collar as she barreled through the ivy.
Unfortunately, the story does not end here. Because as soon as the kiddo and I escorted the dogs into the house, Turkey slid right back out the door, ran down the stairs, and completely tore ass down the road after the deer. So I sighed a big sigh, put my stuff down and got ready to walk down my street for essentially no reason, in false hope that she would listen when I called her, even if she weren't halfway to Los Angeles by then. When Turkey gets out, she likes to make the most of it.
This time, she was back before I even got down the stairs, and trotted up to me proudly wagging her tail. I got lucky. And I doubt we'll be seeing any deer for a few days.