Courtney’s take: ‘my first day with gracie’

23Mar10

Courtney's dog, Tracy, the notorious pants-puller-downer. Photo courtesy of Courtney.

As crazy as ‘my first day with gracie’ was, it might have been just as traumatic for my girlfriend, Courtney, who had just bought the dog for me the previous afternoon. After reading my first post, she started telling me her side of the story. I asked her to share it with you, to give a whole different perspective to the story.

In her own words:

When Corey called me breathless and frantic on Wednesday morning saying Gracie had gotten away, I felt terrible. I had already been feeling a bit guilty because the dog I had picked out for him spent the night moping and lethargic, but this just made me feel terrible.

“I should have just let him pick out the dog he wanted,” I thought. But I had been watching Gracie on the animal shelter Web site for a month, making sure she was still available, and I could not leave her at the pound after becoming that invested. Besides, he said he wanted a hound dog.

Corey’s “Christmas present” had already cost him $250 in a pet fee and now she had escaped less than 24 hours later. Great job, Courtney. So much for an older dog being less trouble than a puppy.

The only good thing about the situation, in my opinion, was that I was about five minutes away from his house when he called me, because I was on my way back to Chapel Hill. However, I also had my dog Tracy, a beagle/corgi/dachshund mix (I think), who is not friendly towards other dogs by any stretch of the word.

When I got to Corey’s apartment complex, I knew I couldn’t leave Tracy alone in the car, so I put her on the leash and speed walked over to the field where the last Gracie sighting had occurred. When I reached the field, I saw a man and his chocolate lab playing fetch. Great. Before Tracy can see the lab and start making a fool of herself barking and growling, I strategically walk around to the other side and call Corey.

By this point, he has caught Gracie but has no leash to put on her, and there is no way he can carry an energetic, 45-pound dog the half mile back to his apartment, so I tell him I’ll carry Tracy and he can have her leash. But first I have to get past the chocolate lab. I decide the best course of action is to pick Tracy up as we walk by.

Of course at this point, Tracy has spotted the very well behaved lab and has decided to start barking her head off. I’m trying everything to hold onto 30 squirming pounds of dog, and she’s trying everything she can to push my pants down with her back legs. Let’s just say she’s being more successful than I am.

So, hiking up my pants, I survey the small, steep hill I must scale to get to Corey and Gracie. “Do you need any help?” asked the other dog owner.

“Nope, I’m good,” I pant, gritting my teeth. Why am I so stubborn and why won’t Tracy SHUT UP??

I manage to make it up the hill, where I find a sweaty, disheveled Corey and a not-at-all ashamed Gracie waiting for us. We begin the delicate maneuver of trading the leash without losing either dog, and Tracy decides to go crazy all over again at the sight of a new dog.

My arms can’t handle her anymore, so Corey takes Tracy while I grab the leash with Gracie on the end of it. I think everything is home free, until we get back to the steep, muddy hill and I realize I have to get down the hill while Gracie is pulling me with all her might.

Let me point out here that I grew up in a one story house and I have always been a bit of a scaredy cat, so going down hills is not my strong suit.

I get about two steps down when letting go of Gracie’s leash seems like the only way I am not going to wipe out on red clay, so I do.

When Corey realizes what happens, I get an exasperated look and Tracy back in my arms so he can chase Gracie down again. Luckily, she’s worn out by this point so it’s not hard.

We finally make it back to Corey’s apartment, where I calm down for about five minutes before I have to leave so that Tracy doesn’t disturb the whole neighborhood with her barking.

Luckily, Gracie has gotten much better by now, and this incident has never occurred again. I’m slowly becoming convinced that my idea to give Corey a dog was a good one. Tracy, on the other hand, still barks at everything that moves.

So there you have it.

The regularly scheduled Thursday post is still on tap for this week, so check back in two days for ‘the great hou-doggy.”

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