(And Kept Walking)
Hi. It’s me. Skye.
I need to clear something up, because my human is telling this story with a tone that suggests concern, and I feel that’s unnecessary.
I did not run.
I did not bolt.
I did not see freedom and make a break for it like one of those dramatic dogs in movies.
I simply… slipped out of my collar. On my walk. And then I kept walking. Like nothing had changed.
Because nothing had.
We were walking along, same path, same pace, same sniff schedule. Birds doing bird things. Leaves doing leaf things. I felt the collar loosen a bit, did a small shoulder maneuver I didn’t even know I had, and suddenly the collar was no longer on me.
It was behind me.
I noticed. Of course I noticed. I’m very aware of what’s touching my neck at all times. But I also noticed something else. My human was still walking. The leash was no longer attached to me, but the walk itself was clearly still happening.
So I stayed in position.
I didn’t freeze. I didn’t sprint. I didn’t test the perimeter. I stayed right where I always stay. A polite distance ahead, checking the ground, occasionally glancing back like, “You coming?”
That’s when my human realized something was wrong. There was a pause. A stop. A look down. A look back. And then my name, said carefully.
“Skye.”
Yes. Still here.
I waited while the collar was retrieved. I stood calmly while it was slipped back on. No wrestling. No panic. No chase. Just a brief wardrobe malfunction and then back to business.
This is important, because I need the record to show that I am not an escape artist. I am not trying to run away. I am not testing boundaries. I am not making a statement about authority or freedom or biscuits.
This was physics.
Shelties have necks. Shelties have fur. Sometimes collars fit differently than humans think. Sometimes things loosen. Sometimes shoulders do surprising things. This does not mean the dog has suddenly become a flight risk.
In fact, I would like to point out that even without the collar, I maintained perfect walking etiquette. No pulling. No darting. No sudden interest in squirrels that would suggest poor impulse control.
I stayed with my human because that is where the walk is.
Walking is not about the leash. It is about the agreement.
The agreement says: we move together, we stop together, we investigate interesting smells briefly and then move on. The leash is just a suggestion. The relationship is the real thing.
My human, understandably, has feelings about this. There was talk of “adjustments” and “different collars” and “how did that even happen.” There may be new hardware in my future. I accept this. Safety matters. Visibility matters. I am not opposed to being properly outfitted.
But I would like it noted that I handled the situation with professionalism.
I did not take advantage of the moment. I did not run home. I did not run away. I did not run toward anything. I continued the walk exactly as planned.
Which tells you everything you need to know about me.
So yes. I slipped out of my collar. It happens. We’ll fix it. We’ll adjust. We’ll probably test new gear.
But please don’t tell the story like I disappeared into the woods.
I was right there. And I deserve a treat.
Still walking.