Striker’s Great Escape
It was a bright, sunny day in mid-July, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The only dark spot in the day was Striker’s mood. He was lying on the balcony, head down on his paws, with his brows furrowed and a definite frown on his face. His ears were drooping and his eyes were red and puffy. He looked very sad and confused.
He was on a “time out”, according to his owners, Marisa and Glenn. They were angry because he had put his toys in the sofa cushion … after pulling out the cushion’s stuffing and burying it under the sofa.
Striker was very pleased he had thought of the cushion because it was the perfect hiding place for his soft toys. The cushion was easy to reach and he could sleep on his toys at night and know they were safe. Unfortunately, Marisa discovered them when she was vacuuming. She told him that he was a “bad dog” because he had destroyed the cushion. Then, when Glenn saw the damage, he put him out on the balcony to “think about what he had done”.
Normally, Striker loved being on the balcony, especially when it was sunny. There were lots of people walking around then and Striker was an enthusiastic people-watcher. The children pointed and laughed when they saw him and their parents smiled and said that he was a beautiful dog.
Striker liked that. He was predominantly a rich, dark, chocolate brown in color, but his chest, his neck, his muzzle, and his paws were white. His eyes were deep brown and they had black patches around them, which made him look like a racoon instead of a boxer.
Almost 4 years old, Striker still behaved like a puppy. He liked to run back and forth along the length of the balcony when he saw an audience. He would wag his tail and do little jumps in the air. When he was very excited, he would also whine and jump on his back legs, putting his front paws on the balcony rail. The neignbourhood children especially loved that and the adults thought it was cute.
There was a sudden puff of air and Striker’s red rubber bone banged against the balcony rails. It was attached by a long red rope to the balcony rail because Striker used to toss it off the balcony when he was younger and then he would cry until either Marisa or Glenn fetched it for him. The long red rope kept the bone attached and it was long enough to almost reach the ground below the balcony.
As Striker was staring at the red bone, he heard his name being called from the street below. He raised his head and sniffed the air. Toby? He sat up and shuffled to the edge of the balcony, craning his neck to see between the balcony rails.
It was! It was really Toby, his best buddy.
Toby was standing below the balcony, tongue hanging out, looking quite hot and thirsty. Toby was a 2 year old white and grey husky with pointy ears, a long muzzle, and dazzling blue eyes. Even though Toby was playful, kind, and gentle, he sometimes scared people because he was quite big and athletic. In addition, he had a very deep bark, which could be heard for several blocks when he was really excited, like he was now.
This probably explained why the people who wanted to pass were either stepping off the sidewalk onto the street to walk around Toby, or they were crossing the street to walk on the other side.
“Striker! Striker! Where are you?” Toby called out, “Do you want to go to the park? Today’s a really great day to play in the water fountain! Striker!”
Striker poked his muzzle through the balcony rails.
“Hi Toby! What are you doing here? Where’s your Marc?”
“He went to Toronto for a competition. Albert’s staying with me for a few days.” Toby replied, with a little smirk.
Striker smirked back.
Marc was Toby’s owner, and Albert was Marc’s father who dog-sat Toby when Marc was away. However, Albert spent a lot of time looking at television, reading books, and chatting with his friends on Skype. Once Albert was involved in one of his television programs, he forgot to pay a lot of attention to Toby, and that was when Toby had complete freedom.
One of Toby’s favourite activities was to slip out of the house via the backdoor (which was not locked during the day) and go to the park. Because it was so very hot today, 30 degrees, Toby thought that it was a perfect time to go swimming. Another option was to play in the water fountain in the park that was between his and Striker’s homes — Parc Saint-André Apotre.
“I can’t go out today,” Striker explained mournfully, “I’m grounded!”
When Toby looked surprised, Striker explained the incident with his toys and his owners’ reaction.
“That’s not fair!” Toby protested, “It’s not like you chewed the furniture or any shoes, or like you dug up the garden.”
Toby was familiar with these reasons for being grounded, for these were a few of his other favourite activities. Unfortunately, these seemed to be some of his Marc’s least favourite discoveries.
Striker nodded sadly in agreement. “I am still grounded, Toby, so we can’t do anything today.”
Toby dropped down dejectedly on the grass directly below the balcony. He put his head down on his paws, like Striker was doing. They both gave huge sighs, thinking with regret about the water fountain and the wonderful cool water in it.
“Wait a minute,” Toby exclaimed, jumping up suddenly, “why can’t you sneak out, like I do, and then we could go to the park.”
“How can I get out?” Striker enquired logically, “Both my Marisa and my Glenn are at home, and the doors are locked.”
Toby looked disappointed. He hung his head, then he jumped when the red bone tumbed off the balcony and stopped its descent when the rope snapped tight. It bounced a couple of times then came to rest a few inches above Toby’s head.
He looked from the suspended bone to the balcony to the ground and then to Striker. His face lit up with a huge grin and told Striker not to worry; he had the perfect way for him to go to the park. Striker could slide down the rope hanging from the balcony and drop onto the grass.
Striker protested, saying it was too dangerous, but Toby was very persuasive (and Striker was very hot). Toby told Striker that he would catch him when he let go of the rope. Besides, the balcony was on the second floor, only a few feet from the ground anyway, so Striker couldn’t get hurt.
After a few minutes of planning and reassurances, Striker put his front paws on the balcony rail. He balanced himself and then grabbed onto the rope with his teeth.
It was easy for him to do all of this because Striker was very athletic. He went biking every weekday morning with Glenn, and they went running along Boulevard Gouin on the weekends. Glenn was a personal trainer, and he was training for a marathon. Striker was his training partner, and they were both getting healthier and stronger every day.
Striker heaved himself over the side of the balcony. He started to slide down the rope, holding it carefully with his teeth and his two front paws. Toby had moved back to the edge of the lawn and was looking a little anxious now. Everything was going well and then Striker’s teeth hit the red bone and he couldn’t go further. Striker looked down and saw that Toby was waiting directly below him, bracing himself for the impact of Striker falling on him.
Striker let go of the rope and fell a few feet through the air with a yelp, landing (thankfully) on something soft and warm. This something was making muffled noises and squirming. Striker realized that Toby was still under him, with his paws spread out beneath him and his face pushed into the ground.
Striker rolled off Toby and reached out a paw to help Toby up. Toby sat up, spitting grass and dirt out of his mouth. He looked more than a little annoyed, but after he shook himself a couple of times, his good humour returned.
“Let’s go!” he exclaimed, “It’s time for fun!”
Toby ran towards the park, not waiting to see if Striker was following him. After a quick, somewhat guilty look at the balcony, Striker raced after Toby, legs pumping, and tongue hanging out in a mixture of anticipation and heat. It really was very hot outside!
Because they were in a hurry to get to the fountain, they almost didn’t notice that the traffic light was red. Luckily, Striker realized it just as Toby was about to run across the road.
“Stop, Toby,” Striker yelled. “The light is red. You have to be stop at a red light.”
“I never stop at red lights!” Toby replied, barely slowing down.
Toby raced across the road while Striker held his breath in fear. The light turned green just as Toby reached the middle of the road. Striker breathed a sigh of relief and followed Toby.
Striker caught up with Toby and put out a paw to stop Toby.
“You could get hurt by a car or a bicycle, Toby.” Striker insisted. “My Glenn told me that I have to stop at red lights. If there is a stop sign instead, I have to wait and look both ways before I cross the road … carefully.”
Toby rolled his eyes, and repeated that he had never been hurt by a car or a bicycle.
“You were lucky!” Striker told him sternly, “Promise me that the next time you want to cross a road, you will check!”
Toby sighed in annoyance. It was still very hot and he didn’t want to stand on the hot sidewalk arguing with Striker. He really thought that Striker was being a worry-wart, but he agreed to be careful from now on.
Striker nodded and they continued on their way.
It took them only a few minutes to reach the park and the water fountain. There were several families already there. The children were dressed in swimsuits, and so were some of their parents. The children were dancing in and out of the streams of water, shrieking and shouting in delight. Their parents were smiling indulgently, and some of them were holding the younger children in their arms as they bathed in the fountain.
At first, no-one noticed Toby and Striker because there were several dogs around. However, these dogs were on leashes. Toby and Striker were the exceptions because they were not with their owners and they were not on their leashes.
When Toby and Striker ran towards the fountain, barking excitedly, the children started to scream and shout, not in delight, but in fear and surprise.
Toby was closer to the fountain than Striker and as he prepared himself to leap into the water, he half-turned in mid-stride to call Striker.
“Hurry up, Striker! Last one in is a smelly cat!”
That was all the incentive that Striker needed. A smelly cat? No way!
“Look out, here I come!” Striker yelled as he gathered his strength and took a giant running leap straight past Toby. Striker landed in the water with a huge splash that sounded like a sonic boom.
Striker made it into the water a mere second before Toby. As Toby stood shaking the water from his face, Striker started to snicker.
“You’re a smelly cat! Look at the smelly cat!”
Toby and Striker were causing quite a lot of confusion as they jumped in and out of the water, leaping over one another and shaking their bodies and barking excitedly. But neither Toby nor Striker was aware of this confusion because they were so happy to be wet and cool and to be with each other.
After a few minutes of stunned silence, some of the adults starting shouting at Toby and Striker.
“Get out of there, you bad dogs!” said a short balding man holding his young bawling daughter in his arms.
“Scat!” One of the mothers yelled, waving her hands furiously at Striker, who was splashing close to her.
“Shoo! Get out!” Another mother shouted, trying to kick water at Toby, who was grinning with delight.
Finally, a couple of the dog owners jumped into the fountain to pull the dogs out.
Toby and Striker were startled when they realized that the people wanted them to go away. They had noticed the children screaming and shouting when they launched themselves into the fountain, but they just assumed that the children were having fun, like them. Now, they noticed that the children were clinging to their parents and not having fun anymore.
“Hey Striker, why is everyone so upset?” Toby asked in confusion, his head tilted to the side.
“I think the kids are scared of us,” Striker replied, after looking around carefully. He sighed and shook his head.
Striker was used to children being afraid of him. He loved children and he loved playing with them, but Glenn’s young nephews were not used to dogs and whenever Striker came near to them, they would start screaming and hiding behind an adult.
“I think we have to go, Toby,” Striker said sadly, “We can come back later, when the young kids have gone home, I guess.”
“Awwww! That’s not fair,” Toby complained, glaring at two children who were pointing at him and screaming, “I’m not going to bite them!”
“I know, but we’re going to get into big trouble if we stay. We’d better go.”
Toby and Striker jumped out of the fountain and began shaking themselves dry. The water flew off of Striker’s short brown coat in rivulets. Luckily, he dried quickly, but he knew that it would take Toby much longer to dry because Toby had a double coat.
They completely ignored the squeals of the children and walked away with dignity. They were quite disappointed to have their fun cut short. They weren’t trying to cause trouble; they were just trying to cool off.
Just then, Striker noticed a friend of Glenn’s walking towards him and Toby.
“Oh no! Look Toby, it’s Lise and Mickie!”
Toby stopped shaking himself and turned around quickly.
His jaw dropped and he groaned. Lise was sure to tell Marc and Glenn that Striker and Toby were playing in the water fountain … WITHOUT SUPERVISION!
“Time to go home, Toby; enough adventure for today,” Striker whispered to Toby out of the side of his mouth.
“Too late,” Toby whispered back, “Here they come!”
Lise was looking around as if expecting to see Marc and Glenn, and when she didn’t, she frowned at Striker and Toby, who were trying to look innocent.
Meanwhile, Mickie, Lise’s companion, was looking sternly at Toby and Striker.
“Okay, out with it. Where are your Marc and your Glenn? Did you two run away from your owners?” Mickie demanded.
Mickie was a small white poodle that was at least a quarter of their size, but she was 8 years old, senior to them, and when she asked the younger dogs questions, they answered her immediately and truthfully.
Toby admitted that he had slipped out while Albert was on the phone.
Mickie shook her head reproachfully at Toby; she was not surprised at his actions because Toby took every opportunity to run away and play. She looked at Striker sternly and asked him if he had run away too.
“It was hot on the balcony,” Striker began in a small voice, “I thought that a small dip in the fountain would cool me off. We are going to go back home now.”
Mickie shook her head chidingly at Striker and warned him that he would be in big trouble when he got home.
“Striker, this isn’t like you. You never do things like this. Your Glenn is going to be very upset with you if he finds out. You know that he doesn’t like you to misbehave in public.”
Striker looked a little embarrassed at Mickie’s scolding, but he didn’t reply.
Seeing that Striker was getting nervous, Toby told Striker not to worry; they would return before Glenn or Marisa noticed he was gone.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Lise exclaimed, as Toby and Striker started to edge away, “I’m taking you two back home. You have a lot of explaining to do.”
Toby and Striker exchanged worried looks at Lise’s words, and they looked around desperately. They had to get away!
Toby and Striker pushed past Lise as she was reaching for Striker’s collar and pelted up the pathway, heading out of the park. They ignored Lise’s shout, telling them to stop.
When they got to Henri Bourassa Boulevard, Striker skidded to a stop, almost knocking Toby over.
“I have to get home quickly, Toby,” Striker panted, “Lise will probably call my Glenn and I will get into big trouble if I’m not there.”
Toby nodded in agreement. He wasn’t worried about Albert, and his Marc was out of the province, but he knew that Toby would definitely get into trouble if Glenn and Marisa found out that Striker had run away, especially when he was grounded.
“I’ll help you get back in, Striker,” Toby said hastily, “Let’s go!”
They ran at full speed until they got to Striker’s apartment building. Then they stopped and stared at the balcony in consternation.
The red bone was still hanging down from the balcony, but Striker didn’t think he could climb up the rope to get back onto the balcony.
“What are we going to do?” Striker moaned, looking around desperately. “How am I going to get back up there?”
“Can you jump up onto the first floor balcony and then jump onto your balcony” Toby asked, looking from one balcony to the other.
“Of course n…” Striker started to say, but then he looked at the two balconies carefully. They were like stairs, and it would not be difficult to jump from one to the other.
He nodded his head at Toby.
“Yes, I can do it,” he told Toby eagerly, “It’s easy! I jump from one bench to another in the park when I go walking with my Marisa. Sometimes, I jump from one park table to another without touching the ground!”
Toby barked happily, telling Striker to take a deep breath and jump.
Striker backed up to the sidewalk and took a run at the first balcony. He jumped right over the balcony railing and skidded to a stop on the balcony.
Toby cheered in admiration and awe.
“Wow, Striker! You’re great! I didn’t know you could do that! Okay, do it again. Jump onto the second balcony!”
This time, Striker hesitated, calculating the distance and the best way to jump onto the second balcony.
There were two wicker chairs on the lower balcony, and Striker pushed one of them close to the balcony rail.
He jumped onto the chair and put his front paws on the balcony rail. Then he took a deep breath and heaved his body up and forward. His back legs left the chair and he flew over the balcony rail, landing with a soft thump on the second balcony.
He skidded a few feet and then he bumped up against the balcony rail. He gave a huge sigh as he stopped completely.
Peering between the balcony rails as he heard Toby yelping and giving short excited barks of victory, Striker quickly shushed Toby.
“Go home, Toby! If you aren’t there if my Glenn calls Albert, he will be suspicious. But if you and I are both around, my Glenn might think that it’s two other dogs.” Striker explained to Toby in a whisper.
“Another Boxer and Siberian Husky?” Toby asked sceptically, “He’s not going to believe that!”
“He may be suspicious, but he won’t have any proof that it’s us,” Striker continued, looking anxious as he heard the phone ring. “Quick, go home! I just heard the telephone! It might be Lise.”
Toby nodded agreeably. He barked a quick goodbye and turned to leave.
“And be careful crossing the road, Toby!” Striker yelled as Toby started to head home.
“Okay, Striker!” Toby called back, his voice fading as he ran.
Striker turned around as Glenn opened the balcony door, his cell phone in his hand. He lay down quickly, putting his head on his paws, trying to look as if he was sleeping.
“No, Lise, Striker’s here; it must have been another dog you saw.” Glenn replied. Then he listened again, looking suspicious. “Toby! Are you sure? Marc is in Toronto and his Dad is looking after Toby. I know that sometimes Toby runs off to play in the park, but Striker doesn’t do that. Actually, he can’t do that because we live on the second floor and we never leave the doors open.”
Glenn listened once more to what Lise was saying, and then he thanked her for calling, and told her he would give Albert a call to see if Toby was there.
During the whole conversation, Glenn had been watching Striker carefully, and when he ended the call, he sauntered over to Striker.
Glenn bent down and ran his hand over Striker’s head and down his body, noticing that it felt a little damp, but it wasn’t actually wet.
“It’s hot out here, isn’t it, Buddy? And it doesn’t look as if you have any water.”
Glenn looked around curiously, trying to see if there was a way for Striker to escape from the balcony. He walked to the balcony rail and looked down. It was at least twenty feet to the ground. If Striker had jumped off the balcony, he would have hurt himself!
Glenn shook his head, and turned around to look at Striker.
“Have you learned your lesson, Striker? Do you want to come in now?” Glenn asked Striker, caressing his head gently.
Striker looked at Glenn guilelessly, trying not to look guilty. Then, he jumped up eagerly, and nodded his head, indicating that he wanted to go inside.
“Alright, come on in.” Glenn said obligingly, “Let’s see if Marisa has any snacks for us.”
As Striker walked past Glenn, he gave a quiet sigh of relief! So far, so good!
When Striker and Glenn walked into the kitchen, he saw Marisa putting his special snack plate on the ground. She had cut up a ham and cheese sandwich into little squares.
Striker started to wriggle in excitement: he loved ham and cheese and bread!
Striker raced to his snack plate and started to sniff at the lovely treat. He started to munch on a square when he felt Marisa’s hand rubbing his ear. He turned his head quickly before shifting over to reach another square.
He heard Marisa laugh.
“Fine; I won’t bother you when you’re eating. But when you’re finished, Glenn and I have a little present for you.”
Striker heard what Marisa said, but he was too busy enjoying his treat to turn around to see.
Within moments, Striker finished his treat, licked the plate helpfully, and took a few slurps of water to wash everything down.
When he turned around, he saw that Marisa was holding out a big Christmas stocking. It was red and it had a picture of Santa Claus painted on it.
The stocking looked full and Striker saw that it had some of his toys in it.
“This is for you, Buddy. You can keep your soft toys here,” Glenn told him with a smile. “No toys in the cushions from now on, only in the stocking here.”
Glenn turned the stocking around and showed Striker.
“Here. Your name is on it, so you know it belongs to you.” Glenn added, pointing to Striker’s name in big black letters on the stocking.
“Do you like it, Striker?” Marisa asked, looking at him with a smile of anticipation.
“Thank you, thank you! I love it! It’s perfect!” Striker exclaimed, his big brown eyes a little red because he was so happy with his present.
Then, Striker took the stocking carefully in his mouth and carried it over to his bed. He put it down and then went back to Glenn and Marisa.
He gave them both kisses and hugs, and then he allowed them to caress him while he wagged his tail enthusiastically.
Afterwards, when Striker was unpacking his stocking to check if his toys were all there, Striker started to think about his day.
He had destroyed the sofa cushion, then he had run away with Toby while he was being punished, and then he had pretended he had been on the balcony all afternoon when Glenn came out to check.
Striker started to feel guilty. He had not been a good dog at all; in fact, he had been a very bad dog.
Striker turned to look at Marisa and Glenn. They were at the stove, cooking together. They were laughing and talking as they worked.
Glenn turned his head to look at Striker. He gave him a wink and a smile, and then he continued chopping the vegetables for the casserole.
Striker sighed, dropping his head onto his paws.
He really felt guilty now.
He decided that he was not going to run away again, and he was going to tell Toby that running away was dangerous. They could have gotten into big trouble today, with Lise and Marisa and Glenn and Marc and Albert.
Striker sighed again. It was difficult being a good dog, but he was going to try.
Just then, Marisa sneaked up and grabbed Striker’s stuffed hedgehog from the floor next to him. She squeaked it teasingly before running to the bedroom, holding the hedgehog above her head.
Striker jumped off his bed and raced after Marisa. He cornered her in the bedroom, by the balcony door, but she kept the hedgehog high above her head and kept turning around so he couldn’t reach Hedgehog.
Finally, after teasing him for a few minutes, Marisa held out Hedgehog to Striker.
Striker reached for Hedgehog slowly, but Marisa ducked away and ran down the hall, throwing Hedgehog onto the sofa as she ran into the kitchen.
Striker skidded to a halt in front of the sofa, and he picked up Hedgehog carefully. Glaring at Marisa, Striker sauntered back to his bed and deliberately put Hedgehog out of Marisa’s reach behind him.
Marisa grinned.
“Hedgehog is safe …. for now! But just you wait! Hedgehog and I are going to play a little game of hide-and-seek when you least expect it!”
Striker deliberately turned his face away from Marisa to show his annoyance. Then, to make sure Hedgehog was untouchable, he lifted himself up a bit and shoved Hedgehog under him. Then he sat down with a big smirk on his face. Let Marisa try to take Hedgehog now!
THE END …. UNTIL STRIKER’S NEXT ADVENTURE!
