So I bring this poorly-pieced -together mutt, "Buffy", home... and give it a little space, lavish a little affection when it feels safe enough to come up to me, and simply invest some time in her since she's brand-new to our home.
So the day after we got her, I tied her out in the morning sunshine. I'd already let Blackberry out to bask wherever she chose in the rare sun rays (Berry would NEVER run off), and I tied Buffy because I assumed she might run off.
Minutes later, I went out to check on her, after my Dad called informing me that my new dog was loose and he'd seen her trotting up the road by his house... and she had slipped out of her collar.
The Men-In-My-Life (Hubby and Strapping Young Lad) were gone for the weekend, so after that, I mostly laid around in despair and amused Baby Girl.
My Great Rescue of the Unwanted/Unloved had gone terribly awry.
I grimly reflected that at least she had been safe, sheltered, and fed before I adopted her.
To make a long story short, one "Lost" newspaper ad later, I got to meet all of the good folks in this township as they called to tip me off as to where they had seen her. No one could catch her.
One dog warden, one dog trap, and two weeks later, my rescue dog was, once again, rescued.
Since then, we've managed to establish a nice eating and bathroom routine for her, and she actually prefers our company to that of her crate kennel now, which is quite an accomplishment.
And she now carries her tail up and curled. Instead of tucked.
So perhaps this will be the Great Rescue I had hoped for after all. I would hate to be hasty though...
(This is your obligatory Blackberry's mug in here..)