FINALLY, IT'S HERE. But oh, maybe go ahead and lower your expectations a little bit...yesss... a little bit more. Right, ok.
I did something either incredibly brillant or stupid. I taught my dog to climb. George, love him, is otherwise a very awkward dog. We are well matched in that way, we both love lazing around and snacking. Built for comfort not speed. Anyway, on weekends we often go to local primary schools for off-lead runs which are good on two fronts 1) there are never any other dogs or people around and 2) little kids are as clumsy as us and it's a vegiemite sandwich and crust wonderland for George.
Our local primary school has a lot of play equipment and Dr-Mr and I spent a lot of time there over summer playing with George and teaching him how to jump over logs, crawl under tyres and... climb log ladders up to platforms. He took to it all like a champ and genuinely loved it.
Last Saturday we hadn't been there for a while, so I ran around with George, up on stuff, over logs and then I ran up the ramp and called him over.
George, unfortunately, did not decide to climb that ramp, he climbed this one.
Which was all the way over there, compared to where I was.
And once up, there really is no way for a chubby boy to get down. It's over 6 feet high and dogs can't climb down log fences and don't really traverse tyre and chain bridges.
Which Georgie soon nervously realises.
And as a 31 weeks, roundy pregnant woman, I could not carry a 32 kilo dog down the log ladder.
So I sat down with George (who was glad for the company), got the mobile out and tried to give an SOS call to Dr-Mr, who was on a driving lesson. Dr-Mr has his phone on him about 0.2% of the time, so I had to call around to find a number for his instructor. Who finally answered after about 3 or 4 separate calls.
"Uh Hi, this is Sally, Dr-Mr's partner... I am SO SO sorry to interrupt, I know Dr-Mr is driving... can you please tell him that we are at the Primary School and George is stuck up the log ramp again*, and we need rescuing? Uh-huh. Yep... he's a little heavy and it's a little high for me to carry him down. Ok, so you will be here ASAP? Excellent, again, I am SO SORRY for the interruption, but it's kind of an emergency. Thanks, see you soon"
Until finally, after about 45 minutes, our rescue team arrived. George started barking with joy and relief when he saw Dr-Mr, who immediately climbed up the log ladder, got Georgie firmly in his arms and carried him down. George did victory-joy laps around the rescue party. Me, having my own idiot moment, forgot to photograph that last moment (mostly because when they arrived I was a little cranky and hormonal-teary from sitting in the freezing cold on a log with a nervous dog).
Like most things he does, I am always half amazed and appalled at Georgie. He is very lovable and a goofball but certainly not a wonderdog. He is my best friend though. Georgie went home and snored loudly in front of the heater for the rest of the day.
(*this is actually the second time George has done this and required rescue. I think his climb up the log ladder is both gutsy and quite skilled, but at the same time so stupid.)