Seamus Gone Wild: Adventures of the Off-Leash Brown Dog

What is the definition of insanity, anyway? I've heard several times that is repeating a behavior, expecting a different outcome.

Well, that would be me, I guess, although it is difficult to admit publicly that I may just be a bit unbalanced when it comes to the brown dog.

Going back years and years, ALL of my dogs could go off-leash in appropriate hiking areas, away from traffic, cats, and other people. They all learned how to do this quickly and with little trouble. They listened. They came back when they were off on a tangent and called back to the trail.

Even Little Beans, our puppy visitor, could go off-leash. He just followed Augie and Duke.

But not Seamus. My dog with little brain just doesn't get it. He WANTS to go off-leash like the black-and-tans. He WANTS to chase lizards and bunnies into the bushes and come back full of foxtails and cockleburs and a wide doggy-grin. But it never happens because he forgets the "come back" part.

The very first time I lost Seamus I was in tears. He went off the trail at the top of a hill, into the brush like he was on a mission. Augie went in after him and would return every minute or so to reassure me, then go back in, hunting for the brown dog.

When Augie chased him back out to the trail, I swore NEVER AGAIN and didn't - for about 3 months. Then, I rationalized that I really WANT Seamus off-leash because he will get better exercise with all the running they do, be happier because he is unfettered, and (here's the biggie) IT IS EASIER ON ME not to hold a leash.

So, he went off-leash again and was a Good Dog for about 10 minutes. And then he saw a rabbit and all heck broke loose and I couldn't locate him. It was long enough for panic to set in, me calling and calling, and Augie going in looking, and Duke just wanting to GET GOING. I picture mountain lions, dropping temperatures, and big black bears. It is awful.

So, I swore this time NEVER AGAIN. And I stuck to it. But then, I rationalized how much better he was listening at home, really, and how if I work with him, and teach him, he will be a GOOD DOG and stay on the trail.

We were doing a really good job. I praised him each and every time he returned to the trail after a bush tangent. I have him a piece of dog bisquit. I should have known, though. He was on a mission, with that look in his eyes, running a bit further ahead of me than I like. “Seamus!” I called. “Come back!” HA! He just goes faster. No more loping and moping.

But I was calling to no avail – the brown dog took off like a bat out of hell at a fork in the trail. Instead of staying on the well-maintained Pacific Crest, he veered right and went straight up a trail that hasn’t seen clippers or hikers in years. Off I ran. The faster I ran, the faster HE ran. It was a vicious circle. Augie and Duke struggled to stay caught up while Seamus ran like his fur was on fire. I am panting and my lungs are burning. We are going UP a mountain. And the dog just keeps running.

Eventually, after about 20 minutes of “chase,” I knelt down on the road up top and, because God is good, the brown dog came right to me, pleased with himself, fishing for a bisquit.

This was about a year ago and he hasn’t been off-leash again. But he HAS been listening better at home and I began wondering today if maybe, this time, he could do it. I am nothing if not optimistic, right?

Now, Seamus on a hike is a bit like Eeyore. He lopes along with a pained expression on his face and flops down in the shade about every tenth bush. He pants like he’s running a marathon and eventually ends up behind me, which is a very pathetic thing indeed.

So, after an hour of hard hiking, I decided Seamus was tired enough to trust. I unfastened his leash and let him go.

It is always at this point that Seamus turns into a different dog. Loping and moping is replaced by leaping and scrambling. Panting is replaced by exciting yipping and doggy smiling. And, for the first 10 minutes he is a Good Dog. He comes back to the trail when called and accepts praise like it’s his due.

As we run down the trail, I recall the time at Devil’s Punchbowl when I let him off-leash and he promptly ran DOWN a steep incline after a bird. Since we had been hiking awhile, he was tuckered out and REFUSED to move. I had to climb down to get him and then haul his burly butt all the way BACK up. This took thirty minutes, with me pushing him and cursing him and swearing to GOD I would never, ever, let this dog off-leash again.

But Seamus is being good. Until he isn’t good anymore and goes off the side of the trail, into some bushes. And he doesn’t come out. I call and call. Augie goes in looking but comes back alone. Duke begins the anxious pacing, ready to just leave the brown dog if necessary. For Duke, stopping is painful and unnecessary - unless he has to mark a bush. Even that he does mid-pace.

Seamus is gone for 10 minutes, long enough for me to bargain with God and swear I will never, ever, again let this dog off-leash. When he comes back, panting through the bushes on the UP side of the mountain (??), I hitch him up and the spring in his step leaves and his doggy smile is replaced by loping and panting.

This time, I mean it. Really.