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I found out when this canine commotion erupted next door on Saturday morning. I go out there to see that Oscar has broken through the fence to chase the cat next door across the yard. The neighbour is out there yelling at Oscar to get the hell out of the yard, because he knows the cat and Oscar don't get along. Grrr! I can't hop over the fence because of all the natural vegetation in the way, so I have to run out to the front gate to go around and into their yard. Oscar must have known that I'd soon be running over, so he also ran out to the front of the yard, then bombs across Ladysmith St. Yah, I'm yelling at him to come back, but he's a bad dog, and temporarily forgotten all his training. Bad. He ends up across the street in the neighbour's yard, and I can't see him. But Henry, the old guy 2 doors down saw him. He points me out to where he went, and then I spot him. He's running free across a couple of backyards, before he runs out onto the sidewalk and tears up the boulevard.

Up the street we go, Oscar continuing to ignore me. He takes a left into Phyllis's yard, and ends up finding fallen apples underneath her fruit trees. He stops to wolf down a snack on the run, which allows me to catch up. As I near him, filled with my own brand of Rover-rage, he turns around and tries to dart back out of the yard. Grrr! He's not stopping, and not listening. Bad, Bad. I was almost close enough to grab him, when he turned to flee, and with him speeding away, I figgered I had only 1 option. So I leapt forward and tackled him. No, I was not thinking about his precious hips. Or my knees. I managed to get enough of a grip on him to pin him down. In the process, I drove my right knee hard against the ground. The blow was only softened partially by the pile of dog crap that I did not see on the lawn. It was smeared into my trousers. Great.

So I picked up the dog, all 73 pounds of him, and threw him over my shoulder like an overweight sack of onions, and headed for home. Momo was coming up the street with his leash and collar, so we put those on, and took him home, to puthim in lockdown for the day. That means he gets to wear his haltie, and stay behind his hallway gates for the day. Bad, Bad.

As I took off my soiled trousers, I noted the bruise on my knee. Oww. I also noticed that my phone was no longer on my belt. I went back across the street, and found it on the lawn where the take-down occurred. Turns out that I busted the belt clip, and cracked the screen. Great. Really great.

Needless to say, Oscar didn't come out for a walk with us that morning.