A tremendous thunderstorm rolled into Guimaras the other night pouring buckets of rain faster than a petrified shabu dealer seeking to evade the police. Lightning crackled in the air with booming thundering reverberating in the skies. A few of our eight canines leap into panic mode whenever they hear any thunder. Today’s post, “Prince’s Edgy Evening Escape” details one of our pup’s extreme reaction to any prolonged loud noises.
Prince is the second member of our canine clan who eventually joined our household in the Philippines almost three years ago. Prince obtained his name because our first pup, a loving, friendly, white mutt, was christened “Cinderella.”
My spouse obtained the two dogs from a neighbor whose canine had a new litter of puppies. She also named the two new additions to our family.
Personally, I only wanted one dog, a Belgian Shepard, for security purposes. Thanks to a tip from our local vet, a six-week-old Belgian Shepard became our third pet. I wanted a manly name for the new dog, one that would instill fear into all those strangers who would chance to meet him. “Killer” soon became the Alpha Male in our small dog pack.
“Killer” on the prowl
Eight is enough
However, a year later, during a vacation my asawa and I took in Manila, Cinderella, aka “Cindy,” and Prince, aka “Princey” were joined together in a common-law marriage not recognized by the Church. Their union produced five offspring.
Now, like Santa who has eight reindeer, we had eight pooches to feed. I was not pleased with the prospect of caring for five more pups and informed my wife of my original intent to only have one dog, “Killer.” However, we did not have any of the original trio visit our vet and make family planning arrangements. (We have since had that issue resolved by our veterinarian, albeit too late.)
One evening, shortly after the arrival of the new litter, my asawa announced to me that she would put a sign on our gate announcing that free pups were now available.
Before I had time to agree with my asawa, she began softly sobbing, tears streaming down her face. While I might profess to be a Crusty Old Expat, don’t let the tough exterior fool you. I have a soft heart (along with several soft spots in my head.) Of course, I consoled my better half and assured her we would keep all the new puppies.
Squeaky Goes to a New Home
However, our live-helper domestic helper, a relative, wanted to take one of our new mutts, “Squeaky” home with her. My wife relented and soon we “only” had seven dogs in our household.
Nevertheless, after a few weeks, my spouse visited “Squeak” at his new home under the pretense of buying some corn from her relatives. Never mind that my asawa could purchase corn at our local wet market, I’m sure my wife wanted to see how “Squeaky” was doing.
My wife returned home from the visit and announced that “Squeaky” seemed to be sad in his new digs. While the pup wasn’t neglected, my spouse felt he wasn’t adjusting too well and missed his mama, Cinderella.
The Spoiled “Squeak”
Of course, “Squeaky” was returned to our home soon thereafter where he has now become the most spoiled of all of our eight dogs. “Squeak Squeak” is the only dog that is allowed inside our home (if he is not wet) and is pampered beyond belief. “Squeak” is given a t-shirt to wear when he comes inside. Whenever any thunderstorm hits, such as the one we recently had, “Squeaky” immediately bangs on our screen door wanting in.
We attribute “Squeaky’s” fear of thunder to the “trauma” of being separated from his Mommy Cindy, albeit only for a short time. His Papa Prince, however, has the same fear of loud noises (Prince hates New Year’s Eve in the Philippines) and has only recently tried to go inside when a thunderstorm hits.
We let Prince and son “Squeak” in our bedroom one stormy night. Prince, however, turned out to be a “drooler.” He left puddles of saliva wherever he went. Prince will not lie down for very long at one spot and our bedroom floor was covered with dog drool in the morning.
Prince’s Edgy Evening Escape
It was a dark and stormy night. Around 10:00 pm my wife and I heard “Killer” and “Patchy” barking outside. I went outside to investigate and discovered the two canines were barking at a neighbor’s carabao that occasionally languishes in the rice field next to us.
I managed to get the dynamic duo away from our reinforced fence, which is 7 feet tall and composed of concrete posts, barbed wire, and cyclone fence which is anchored with cement at ground level. Our three-acre property is surrounded by the fence which is intended to keep all of our dogs in and other dogs out.
Chickens, however, that decide to enter our lot, are subject to being instantly dispatched by anyone of our eight canines.
The Search for Prince
As I looked around outside, all of our dogs were accounted for except for Prince. “Squeaky” was already inside but Papa Prince was nowhere to be found. I went inside to inform my wife.
“He might have gotten outside,” said my better half, “if so he will be crying to get back inside.”
(Prince had managed to escape this past New Year’s Eve frightened by all of the fireworks our nephew was shooting off. While the family marched around our house banging pots and pans to scare off evil spirits, Prince had become so frightened that he had managed to engineer his getaway through our fence. We were able to locate him quite quickly and retrieve him.)
“I’ll have to go back outside and try to find him,” I replied.
So with flashlight in hand and clad only in my boxer shorts, I headed out into the darkness and pouring rain.
I first walked to the area where Killer and Patchy were barking at the carabao. No Prince. After walking to the front gate I made my way through the dense portion of trees and vegetation in our backyard to check the rear fence area. I heard a dog crying!
Rushing back to our house as fast as my Crusty Old Expat legs could carry me, I informed my spouse that I think I might have heard Prince crying. My wife quickly joined me with her flashlight and we made our way to the back of our property.
We followed the cries of our dog and managed to spot Prince on the outside of our fence desperately calling for help. I managed to tie a leash around our pup’s neck while The Sainted Patient Wife went for some wire cutters. The only way we would be able to retrieve Prince was to cut a hole in the fence and bring him through.
It started raining even harder and I became completely drenched while waiting for my spouse to make her way back with the wire cutters.
About ten minutes later I spied a flashlight shining in the distance and aimed my light towards the source so my wife could gauge my direction in the gusting winds, drenching rain and utter darkness.
I was petting Prince and consoling him the whole time, feeling quite sorry for the pup. My better half soon arrived and cut a gap in the fence. I lifted up a strand of barbed wire and Prince made his way through the gap. He was safe!
My asawa then fixed the hole in the fence with some wire she had brought along as the rain continued to pour. Prince was tied up on our front porch for the rest of the evening as my spouse and I returned to bed.
By now it was 11:30 pm and though we were both tired, it took another hour or so for us to fall asleep. The next morning my wife discovered the gap where Prince originally escaped the night before and repaired it.
We were both thankful that our beloved pet, Prince, was safe, but knew that we would have to keep a watchful eye on him during the next thunderstorm. And hopefully, that next storm wouldn’t occur past the Crusty Old Expat’s bedtime.