Where does the time go? I invited some friends over for dinner on Saturday so had to do some prep work Friday and just didn't get to blogging until today. On Saturday, I asked Peter to take Rockwell for a nice long (albeit HOT) walk so I could vacuum. I had finished the vacuuming and was just about to do some dishes when the phone rang. It was Peter and he said, "come quick. The dog is loose in the park and I need you to bring some kibble! Turn left when you get to the park and head for the sandbox." Ack! I grabbed some kibble and ran out the door, remembered I should have the dinner whistle too, ran back for that and then out to the park again. As I ran up the path into the park and turned left, I saw Peter slowly walking toward me as Rockwell, collarless, bounced around him in mad circles. Between us on the path was an elderly Chinese woman who seemed to be laughing as Rockwell bounded toward her but was obviously terrified of the rambunctious dog. I stopped and blew three times on the whistle (the signal for lunchie, lunchie) and Rockwell whirled and raced toward me, bashing into my knees when he got to me. I asked him to sit before I would give him a kibble and even in his excitement at being FREE, he actually sat for a second. I gave him a kibble and he took off toward Peter again, pausing to jump on the poor Chinese woman.

After a few back and forths like this, Peter football tackled him and got the collar on him again. We tried to console the poor lady who Rockwell had taken such a shine to but really, she was still smiling even if she wasn't interested in patting Rockwell now that he was under control. It turned out that they had had a really nice walk all the way around Centrepointe and Peter was pleased with Rockwell's behaviour. It was SO hot (at that point, about 38C on the humidex) that Peter decided to walk back to the house using the path that goes around the perimeter of the park. The park was full of people playing soccer and they stopped in the shade to watch them. When Peter went to get going again, Rockwell stopped dead and did that wriggle with his head and the collar (NOT on the tightest hole) slipped right off. Then he was LOOSE! Peter said he decided the best thing to do was sit on the ground and phone me and sure enough, Rockwell didn't run more than 30 feet from him. He just kept loping in circles and sniffing under the bushes and around trees. He wouldn't come over to be caught but he didn't run away either. So it was pretty interesting.