seriously

really proton? do we really need to continue this game of dog escape from the backyard + sweating dog owner running through the streets of baltimore screaming out the name of a subatomic particle? yes... yes we do.

yesterday i was in the backyard with prof. proton, tending to the pumpkins and cucumbers and flowers, not paying too much attention to the fact the professor was doing a terrible job weeding because all of his energy was going to plotting his escape. escape from a terrible life of comfortable beds and loads of dog treats and trips to wonderful places. but apparently not as wonderful as the particulars of baltimore alleys. i turn my back for 1.3 seconds and out of the corner of my eye notice the dart of gray blasting through the back gate. "proton?.... proton?" DAMN IT. sure enough, open the door and there he is. 15 feet away, staring at me. i take one step toward him saying "good boy! good boy!" and then he's gone. running like a freaking maniac down the alley, turning around every few seconds to make sure i'm still chasing him. then he peels onto the main street and runs by the group of kids hanging out on the stoop. at least seven of them, not one of them interested in helping the sweaty white lady get her scruffy-ass dog under control. as i run by one of them says "hey lady... your dog is loose." really? thanks ace... i doubt i'll have you in class this fall, but one can hope for small miracles. one lone ranger of compassion saddled up on his dirt bike and took off with me to try to wrangle the beast... and about 10 minutes later, as proton made his way toward a major baltimore street and i was screaming his name in a much more panicked and frightened way, we finally got the hairy moron until control. and then i had to carry his ass past the stoop boys (who were kind enough to comment "hey... you got your dog." ) and to my apartment, where the hose had been left running and was now causing a minor floor in the alley. perfect. and may i add that this little escape jaunt happened AFTER i let him run amuck in a dog park for 1.5 hours. perhaps this is his own way of shifting my mind's attention from lost loves to lost dogs.... in that case, FANTASTIC strategy. let's plan a daily runaway escapade.