An Escape Route

Now that our walks occur in complete daylight, Sonya walks with a mission. She is hunting squirrels. I'm not sure what it is exactly about dogs and squirrels, but whenever we see one the chase is on. Squirrels have a natural ability to maneuver across treetops in such a way that makes monkeys look inept. And although she cannot climb a tree, Sonya certainly does try in her efforts to catch one of these sly little rodents. Last week her greatest opportunity for success finally came to her.
A neighbor of mine hired a landscaping company to cut down two large oak trees in his front yard. On their first day on the job the tree cutters chopped the trees down to two ten-foot high stumps. These trees were, it seems, essential to the squirrel population on our street, and the little guys were busy nosing around trying to find their acorn treasures when Sonya and I came walking down the sidewalk.
Immediately she spotted them and pulled me over as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast because, as I usually do, I dug my heels in. Last summer we wore the tread off of one side of my current pair of sneakers with this ritual. She made it over to the yard just in time to see the last of the squirrels jump up the side of one of the newly chopped-off oak trees. Sonya stood up on her back legs and reached as high as she could up the side of the tree, yapping and crying for him to come back down. The squirrel reached the sawed-off top of the stump and discovered there was no place else he could go. He looked back down at Sonya chattering and waving his tail at her. I stood back holding tight on the leash, rather amused at the whole situation. That was my mistake.
Before I knew it Sonya had moved around the tree to the other side, looking for a way up. The tree was now between us. The squirrel tried to come down but seeing the dog blocking his path, quickly went back up. I looked up at the squirrel and saw at that moment he was staring intently at me. I could see in his eyes he was calculating how much force he would need to land on me and thus make his escape from the dog. "Oh no you don't," I told him. I followed the leash around the tree and pulled Sonya off and away from it. This small break was just what the squirrel was looking for and he leaped onto the driveway and ran away as fast as his legs would carry him. Sonya started down the gravel drive, but I was able to dig my heels in much better than on the sidewalk, so she had to stop. She cried once or twice as she watched the furry gray creature disappear into my neighbor's backyard. I had let him get away. But just what would she have done if she had caught him? I shuddered to think.
The next day, to make it up to her, I bought her a new toy. Her very own stuffed squirrel complete with one squeaker in his tummy and another in his tail. Of all her toys, Squirrely is her most prized possession.