"We jumped out a window"

My dogs jumped out a window this summer.

Feel free to reread that sentence if you'd like, but I promise you read it correctly. If you don't believe me I will copy and paste that here again: My dogs jumped out a window this summer.

My husband and I thought we would take a weekend to visit one of our favorite hiking locations, Devil's Lake, and like the kind pup owners we are we couldn't dream of leaving our two pups behind. To set the scene for the moment in my life when I truly didn't know if I wanted to cry or laugh or both you must be given a bit of a character description for the main characters.

First, there's Remington (i.e. Remi, RemRem, or Bud).

Remington is a husky, shepherd, border collie (maybe great Pyrenees?) and was just over a year and a half at the time. He is my genital giant. 75 pounds of snuggles and over-excitement. Remington received the most focused training (being an only pupper for the first year of his life) but I will be honest, not the brightest of the bunch. He tends to miss hearing intruders (or my husband) until they have entered the house and come all the way upstairs to our bedroom.

Then there's Kimber. Oh sweet, mischievous Kimber. In July of 2021, she joined our little family. While we don't know a lot about her past, she was very scared of loud noises and probably spent the first six months of her life roaming the open fields, chasing all the little critters to her heart's desire. Kimber is a mix of German Shepherd and maybe wild coyote(?).

At the time of the Great Torpedos of 2021, Kimber was nine months old, and let's say she inherited that second-kids-don't-give-a-shit-about-nothing philosophy that has been going around on TickTock and Instagram. Kimber has so kindly been the one to teach Remington how to push open semi-closed doors, chew through boxes, and catch squirrels. She's definitely the instigator and when she's being scolded she tends to stand there with a smile on her face, tail wagging like a pin-wheel.

Now that you understand a little more about the two clowns of this circus-on with the story of (as our friends, who happened to be in the car behind us at the time, have dubbed it) the Great Torpedos of 2021.

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The sun nicely warmed the fall day just enough that I was more than excited for our weekend getaway in Wisconsin. The winding road into Devil's Lake park was shielded on either side with exquisite trees that reached so high they created a false ceiling of burnt embers above our heads. Emerging from the road down into the park we joined the numerous others waiting in the double line to purchase a parking pass. My husband pulled into the left lane, right next to a stunning grassy area with a large oak tree in the center. Just over the cars to my left, I could see the shimmering glass of the lake and could not wait until I was able to dip my toes in the frigid water.

"Oh, I'm so ready for this," I told my husband looking back at the two pups who stood in the backseat looking out the open window. They too were excited to be out of the car and exploring all the new smells their little puppy hearts can take in.

He looked over at me, one hand on the wheel looking like such a stud in his tank top and aviator glasses. "Yeah, me too. Do you remember how much the parking ticket--" before he could finish his question we heard a thud from the backseat.

We turned only to find that little Kimber, sweet, causing problems Kimber, had cleared the window and was out of the truck. When I say that this little pup was maybe a bird (or daredevil from the circus) in her past life, I mean it. This girl cleared the window, fell the four feet out of the truck and down the extra three to five feet of the grassy hill, and for only a second was she stunned about what she had just done before she took off after a little gray squirrel who had been just minding his own business eating a nut at the base of the oak tree.

Remington and I just stare at each other before he looked at Kimber then back and me. Before I can open my mouth, this boy jumps right out after her. Being thirty-five pounds heavier, his exit is not as graceful but he has escaped nonetheless.

This was a Big Hero Six moment. Remington cast as Baymax and Kimber trying to keep him quiet as they snuck back inside after their little adventure.

"Take the wheel," my husband calls as he jumps out of the truck pulling me back to the reality that we have two dogs loose on the chase of a temping squirrel. At least one of us was thinking straight at the moment. I jumped over the middle console as I watched my husband call to Kimber.

Remington did a few circles of excitement on the grass watching us. 'Are we playing?' his tongue out the side of his mouth expression seemed to be asking me. The squirrel, seemingly unphased about how close to being Kimber's new chew toy gripped the tree about seven feet in the air and looked over the comical scene before him.

Kimber being the less responsive of the two was the first to be been scooped into my husband's arms. He hauled her back to the truck and I could tell he was trying to keep the stupid grin off his face. We are going to be terrible parents one day, I thought to myself. There's no way we will be able to scold our children if they do something so stupidly hilarious.

He called to Remington who came instantly and jumped right up into the backseat, always the follow the leader pup that he is. He was happy as a clam as he looked at me in the rearview mirror. I never broke eye contact with him as I put the back windows up until they had closed completely. They had officially lost window privileges.

"Well we can never ask him the cliff question," my husband said to me as he buckled his seat belt.

I looked at him puzzled, still not sure if laughing would encourage the two jail breakers in the back seat to try another escape.

"You know, 'if your friends jumped off a bridge, would you jump too?''' We both grinned.

"Remington would. He absolutely would," I replied.

The Great Escape of 2021 was not my greatest dog mom moment, but it still makes me laugh whenever I think of the family we passed on the hiking trails who greeted us with a laughing "Oh you're the ones with the flying dogs!"

At that dear friends, is the time my two dogs jumped out a window.