My dog Zelda used to be very bad about trying to escape the yard to have fun exploring the neighborhood when she was much younger. She'd find every single weakness in the gate, and pull a Houdini. One early morning my mother tells me she was gone. I groan, and then get dressed to find her. I was expecting a long search, but right as I opened the front door she was lying on the porch waiting for us to open the door to let her back inside.