It took less than thirty seconds. I had rinsed a can and decided to take it out to my re-cycling bin which was already curbside on collection day.
I neglected to shut the front door before I opened the porch door, and in about the time it takes to say aluminum or aluminum Ben had made a break for it.
He paused at the end of the car port..I called his name. He looked at me, gave me the finger, and trotted off west.
I called him again, He looked again, gave me the finger again, and ;proceeded further west then went into the car port at Bernadette and John's home. John saw Ben, called him over and petted him (it did not occur to John that it was odd for Ben to be out alone - I understand).
I cried out "grab his collar" but it was too late. Ben gave me another withering look and went to explore Nancy's car port.
Now Nancy's dogs spend a lot of time on her porch, behind a locked screen door. Ben's visit caused them to bark enthusiastically. This alerted Nancy who came outside, as did her immediate neighbour Ed.
My last call to Ben was a failure.
He took off and sprinted south for about 150 yards through a grassy area. His strength and energy were awesome. Although I was worrying about where he would go and how far away he would go, I was yet in awe at the beauty and grace of his sprint. He ran like a (well yes) Greyhound!
Neighbour John and I took to our cars. in search of my handsome Ben. In the end Ben did very little other than to explore other car ports. John spotted Ben first, and the dog who had given me the finger came running with joy towards my next door neighbour, who then opened the rear door of his car, whereupon Ben jumped in (!) and was driven in style back to my home.
With gratitude to my neighbours (who eventually numbered eight) for their concern for Ben and me,
With wonder at the sight of Ben's awesome sprint.
This is not Ben. It is Monty, a Greyhound Rescue who lives in Cumbria U.K. His markings are a bit like Ben's, but the chief reason I posted this is to illustrate the joy, beauty and exuberance of a Greyhound sprint.
P.S. When Ben and I got back into our home I did not scold him. That would have been pointless since his "escape" was not a matter of his naughtiness, but of my carelessness. Instead I gave him a treat to celebrate his return home.
And today I bought him a "Big Boy" feeding station to make his life here more enjoyable.