It was time to return home from a twenty-minute walk, Rabbit's first while wearing her tightly fitted, escape-proof harness, reputed to be sufficient containment for even the most intransigent roughneck.
Rabbit had other ideas. With a single, fluid motion, she shrugged off the five-point harness like a silk camisole. She was off, heading to the northeast woods at top speed. The only possible explanation is that Rabbit can dislocate her shoulders willfully and without apparent discomfort.
Two anxious hours elapsed, and then the phone rang ...
"Hi, My name is Tom. We live on Flint Hill Road and we have your sweet, white dog here who seems to have wandered away. You can call us at our home phone, and we'll try the other number that's on her tag to try to get her back to you. Thanks, and Bye."
This time she made it 1.4 miles, saved once again by the kindness of strangers. We drove over and traded a festively seasonal lemon poundcake for Rabbit's chastened and briar-riddled carcass.
A five-point harness having been insufficient, we are now considering a seven-point, double-back harness, which places a loop around each back leg.
As I write, Molly is seated with needle forceps and a magnifying visor, plucking briarthorns from a whimpering puppy's hide.