Sparky ran off yesterday.  He doesn’t really run away, Sparky runs toward a objective, usually something stinky.    When Sparky goes to ground, he would be impossible to find because he likes dense brush, briar patches and holes.

He can’t resist a pipe or hole in the ground.

Sparky can’t pass a sewer grate without stopping to investigate the scent.

Animals get his attention, but don’t hold his interest.  If he notices birds on the ground or deer, he may react, but Sparky is fascinated by dead animals.  He’s a scavenger.  All of the stink with none of the nasty pecking, stomping or growling.

This was the fourth time Sparky has gone to ground.  When he does, I can’t do much to find him because he likes the dark places and he leaves in a huff.  When Sparky is “in a huff”, he is in a sniffing frenzy, and is unresponsive to calls, lures, or any other enticement.

The first time wasn’t entirely my fault.  I had Sparky for a month, and on walks, he sniffs so methodically, I thought that chasing him would be like chasing a mummy.  I imagined that as he’d go shambling off, and I’d walk up and click on his leash.  We just returned from the veterinarian, and the garage door was still closing as I opened the passenger door to let Sparky out.  He bolted under the door, and went straight for the street.  We’d always taken our walks in back, so I didn’t know if he understood cars and traffic.  As I called him, he ignored me as he went straight to the culvert and creek adjacent to the street.  As I approached and continued calling, he eventually looked up, saw me, and came running up to tell me about the pipe he’d found.

The second time was entirely may fault.  I knew he couldn’t be trusted off-leash.  This was a month later, and Sparky still had rarely barked or howled.  The first time he’d barked, it was while watching Puss in Boots.  After that, I played a few Youtube videos, and found that he’d bark at howling dogs.  He would occasionally howl if he thought I’d forgotten him when he was tethered outside.  It was a quiet day, I was on the computer in the living room, and Sparky was hanging out in the solarium.  He started barking and was excited.  When I checked on him, I found there was a bunch of wild turkeys in the back yard.  Our conversation went like this.

Sparky:  “Look, there are a bunch of turkeys in the back yard!”

Me:  “Yep, those are turkeys, but we’re in the house and they are outside.”

Sparky:  “Yeah, but it’s a bunch of turkeys!  I can scare them off so they don’t live here.  You’ve been great, feeding me and whatnot, but this is something I can do for you.”

Sparky’s plan was very persuasive, and I had no plan, so we went with his.  By the time I was going down the hill, Sparky was going up the other side.  By the time I was up the other side, he was gone in the woods.  It occurred to me that the animal shelter would probably give me another dog.  As I went into the woods, I would call to Sparky and occasionally see him.  He’d look toward me excitedly because he was certain he was doing a great job dispatching the turkeys.  When I cleared the woods, Sparky also at the edge of the woods.  He came over to give me an update on his progress when I clipped him in.

The third time, I was cooking a burger on the grill, and was incautious about closing the sliding door to the deck.  I called him, but he was gone.  I heard some distant howling, but had no luck finding him.  A neighbor called 15 minutes later to return him.

This time, I’d been working in the old garage, a place Sparky rarely visits.  I’d left the garage door open, but there are three doors between the living room and the garage.  I’d taken taken a brief nap in the afternoon, and when I awoke, Sparky was gone.  Those doors were all partially closed, but Sparky had nosed through and left.  I didn’t even know how long he’d been gone.  I called, patrolled with the quad, and driven around the area.  When Sparky goes to ground, he doesn’t stay in the yard because he knows what everything smells like.  When I first got him, I considered naming him “Marco” because he likes to explore.  A former student named Marco had been a dick, and ruined that name. 

I alerted some neighbor kids who’s dog is a friend of Sparky’s, but I wasn’t optimistic.    Sparky likes dogs and will howl when he meets one.  He’s a friendly dog, so a neighbor might apprehend him and call.  My other chance was that when Sparky is out, he walks around like a boss when he isn’t tracking.  I continued to patrol on the quad.  I spotted him on the South side of the church parking lot.  When I came up, he acknowledged my call, but didn’t come.  Sparky wanted to show me some raccoon remains he’d found in the woods, so I followed him in and clicked the leash on him.

I will be more diligent about doors, but I can’t help thinking that Sparky will make it out again eventually.