No, not really, although it's a catchy name for Misha, the White Devil. We spent yesterday, Sunday, re-enforcing the yard and making it look more like the Beverley Hillbillies live there. Railroad ties, cement blocks, plywood, wire, left-over tv dinner containers :) stacked up or laid down along the fence. All the time the dogs were hanging out with us, taking notes of weaknesses, potential dig sites, and places to climb. I'm sure they were up all night planning their attack, then acting coy at breakfast, like nothing what-so-ever was happening.
Seriously though, it was a rough week last week. Misha got out five days straight, digging mammoth holes into our neighbor's yard, then running the neighborhood, and apparently harassing chickens and rabbits up the street (well she's a malamute after all). The neighbors were all involved in numerous efforts to get her in, and I got very friendly with the animal warden who was a saint through all this. It got so I refused to answer my phone at work for fear of what I'd find out.
But she's such a sweetie in some weird impossible to rationalize ways. We actually had thought we'd return her to WAMAL, but are having second thoughts. The WAMAL folks are being super supportive, and sending us something to relax her. And there's always the trainer, and an electric fence.
Hope springs eternal in the mal owner's soul.
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