This means war.

I'm at war with my dog. I fear it will be a fight to the death.

Advantage me: larger brain, opposable thumbs
Advantage Tallulah: at home all day alone, massive separation anxiety complex

War was initiated by Lu last week and was raging for three days before I was even aware of it. Then found note in mailbox left by neighbor that she had been running around the neighborhood via large escape hole under the fence. Which she would then CRAWL BACK UNDER to be home like nothing happened when I got home at night.

My response was admittedly weak, but it was dark and cold and I was exhausted: stuck bag of firewood into hole.

Tallulah promptly responded the next day by digging new hole next to original one and losing her collar somewhere.

First round: Tallulah, definitely.

I planned on staying home pretty much all weekend, but had to attend an engagement party Saturday night. Since I hadn't fixed the holes yet, I put Lu in the guest bathroom for a few hours. I lovingly placed one of her dog beds, a chewie, and some water for her comfort. Tallulah retaliated by EATING THE ENTIRE BACK OF THE DOOR. I came home to a large pile of sawdust at the base of the door. I open the door to find five times more sawdust and the water tipped over, so the room is an intoxicating blend of wet wood and panicked dog. I spend next hour cleaning up crap and Lu sleeps in basement. She tries to get me back chewing up some newspaper, but it doesn't faze me.

Second round: Tallulah, with the door and all. But my anger is brewing.

Sunday I set about repairing the hole and devising some way to win the war once and for all. In the bottom of the holes I placed a layer of firewood logs stacked side-by-side. Then a layer of metal netting staked down, topped with a lot of top soil all tamped down in it. Lastly, a shit load of black pepper all over the place. Hopefully she will get a snootful of pepper in her face and become afraid of the site. If she makes it to the netting, I'm hoping this will mystify her to the point of surrender. And there's no way she can move the logs.

Third round: God I hope me. Because otherwise shit is going to go down.

Can she just dig elsewhere along the fence line? Perhaps. But she has always dug here, so maybe my obvious attempts to keep her in the yard will translate to some kind of reassurance of love in her tiny dog brain. And besides, she doesn't really want to get out, she just wants attention.

Tonight: Judgement Day.