Danger can only be overcome by more danger. ~Greek Proverb

My dog went to jail last weekend.


Alicia, Regis Danger and I were in Carmel for the weekend, enjoying the HOT weather, shopping, local eateries and lovely night life. It was my first time visiting and Regis had never been there before either. We stayed in Alicia’s family’s home on a quiet street near downtown. Walking distance to absolutely everything in the little seaside town.

Saturday afternoon, Alicia and I ventured out to have lunch at a cute little café with outdoor seating, followed by trying on some adorable dresses and things at one of the shops close by. Not wanting to cart my toy poodle around, we left him in the comfort of the house and gave him access to the fenced yard. Thinking he’d be fine on his own for a couple of hours.

Turns out, he had other plans. While sitting in the fitting room, trying to take a photo on my iPhone of a tiny little hat I’d just picked up for my nephew, I noticed 3 new voicemails from an unrecognized number. Generally, I’d wait maybe 4 or 5 days to listen, or until my voicemail told me it’s full again, but I had a few minutes to kill.

The second I heard “Carmel PD, calling about the poodle again” on voicemail, I dialed the number back. Clenching my jaw and trying not to make up horrific stories in my head about what had happened.

The lady gave me the good news – she had Regis Danger, all locked up and safe. I just needed to go to the station and pay a fine and take him out of there. At least he wasn’t smooshed on a road somewhere. Or eaten by a hawk or something.

When the officer came out to speak with me at the station, she told me he’d gotten out of the yard and was running around the street, barking at passers-by. Hmm. Bad dog. Then when she and her partner tried to catch him, he growled and barked at them. Such a vicious little guy. They tried coaxing him with treats, to no avail.

Finally, he ran back to the house where he’d escaped from and they caught him with a net. Hahaaa. I wish I had been there to see that. Apparently, once caught, he was a perfect little angel. Not a peep out of him. At least he knows when the gig is really up.

We took him home after we sprung him out of jail, grabbed a couple of books and some water, and went to the beach. I put him in the cold waves and laughed at him, running for his life. That made me feel better about the whole thing. It’s pretty funny to see a toy poodle battling the ocean. I’m a terrible disciplinarian.