We've been hanging out a lot lately next to this "feral building" where one wall has been completely taken over by ivy (you can see it in a few of the pictures in this post, and I hope to write about what we've been doing up there later this week). The only time our pup Wendell ever runs away from us is when he hears a firecracker. Years ago, when we first rescued him, some teenager jackass threw a firecracker right at him and he pulled the leash right out of my hand and disappeared. After an hour of searching, we found him hiding under an SUV in front of our house. I have often wondered if he is gun shy, and that's why such a beautiful hunting dog was dumped on the streets of Detroit.
The other day some kids were setting off firecrackers nearby, and Wendell disappeared. Terrified, we began to search all over until we noticed his tongue flickering amid the vines against the building not twenty feet away. We called his name, and he poked his head out a bit further. What a baby. . .
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