My mother’s great pyr was an escape artist. Any type of enclosure, she would take as a challenge. If she couldn’t dig or bite her way out, she’d climb. The least graceful, awkward climbing. People on the other side of town would call: “hey, I found your dog…”
My buddy who I took my apartment over from had an awesome pit bull. He wasn’t a very good owner and never took him for exercise. So I’d walk him up to the L5P Chevron with the only leash available in the house, just some random rope. Tied him up, went into the Chev, grabbed my beer. Next person to open the door, Wally runs in. I look at the clerk, “sorry man!” and go after him. Wally loves this game and makes 4 or 5 circuits around the Chev with me trying to grab him. Of course, when a stranger came in, he went right up to her to get petted. The clerk was not feeling it at all.
