Gypsy dogs love an open road … a new scent … an empty field with tall grass.
Gypsy dogs love adventure.
They don't care that you took a day off work to lay electric wire around a perimeter to keep them in, to keep them safe, or that you worry about them and miss them when they disappear.
They don't let sore elbows, weak hips or even electric shocks on their necks keep them from new discoveries just beyond the horizon or at least beyond that electric wire you buried.
They're free spirits. Wanderers. Gypsies.
Dang dogs. Back to the drawing board, I guess.
Maybe a dog run between the trees…
I wrote this last night – I'm happy to report that, as far as I know, Belle and Max stuck close to home today, as good guard dogs should, and earned the big bucks we pay them.
(We don't actually pay them. It just sounded good.)
I say "as far as I know" because I don't really trust them, and suspect they snuck away farther than they were supposed to, but somehow they were there every time I checked today, or at least within calling distance.
Except one time.
But then they showed back up. Eventually.
Fingers crossed for tomorrow. I might have dogs in the laundry room.
I wonder if they iron?
Long Hollow 
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