Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Bolt: To secure, or to flee (10/02/25)
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TITLE: The Day Grandpa Betrayed Gunnar | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marilyn Meiners
10/03/25 -
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“Can you watch Gunnar for us?”
Now, Gunnar is their five-year-old black Shih Tzu. He’s fluffy, adorable, and thinks he’s royalty. Of course, we always say yes—after all, he’s practically family. But there’s one complication: our daughter-in-law, Lisa, who visits us from Ohio, is violently allergic to dogs. She’s so allergic that if she ever starred in a Disney movie, her villain wouldn’t be a wicked witch—it would be a puppy.
Because of this, Gunnar has to be confined to one room in our house. (One contaminated room can be easily cleansed through stringent carpet shampooing.) But don’t worry—Gunnar's fine with it. That’s also the room where we spend most of our time. Basically, Gunnar thinks we remodeled the place just for him.
Now, Gunnar’s favorite part of his stay isn’t the food, the cozy blanket, or the endless attention. Nope. His heart belongs to one thing only: the daily morning walk with “Grandpa.” At precisely 6:30 a.m., Grandpa says, “Gunnar, wanna go for a walk?” and suddenly this lazy fluff-ball is at the door like an Olympic sprinter waiting for the starting gun.
One summer, I had my three grandsons over for a visit. Between the boys, Gunnar, and me, it was like running a circus with no ringmaster. Their backyard is fenced, so the boys had a bad habit of running in and out, leaving the back door open just enough for trouble to sneak through. Our backyard, however, is like the wide-open spaces in a wild west movie. Picture tumbleweeds, except it’s actually crabgrass.
That particular day, Grandpa mentioned he was going for a walk—without Gunnar.
Without Gunnar!
This was betrayal of the highest order. Gunnar heard the word “walk,” leapt off his throne (aka the sofa), and charged to the door. Imagine his heartbreak when Grandpa walked out… without him.
But Gunnar was not about to let this injustice stand. The very next time one of the boys cracked that back door open, Gunnar bolted out like a cannonball. Up the street he went, his little legs pumping, ears flapping in the wind, on a mission to find Grandpa—the deserter.
The boys sprinted after him, yelling “GUNNAR, STOP!” (as if yelling at a Shih Tzu mid-escape has ever worked in the history of mankind). Gunnar, of course, ignored them. After all, loyalty is a one-way street in his mind.
Now, I should mention—I’m 82 years old. Chasing a runaway dog wasn’t exactly on my list of physical activities that day. These days I count it as exercise if I can find the TV remote without getting up. So I was beyond grateful the boys were there to give chase.
Thankfully, fate intervened in the form of a young couple out walking their dog—a cute little female poodle. Gunnar, being the shameless flirt that he is, screeched to a halt for a sniff and a chat. The gentleman quickly scooped him up and secured him like a wriggly football until my breathless grandsons arrived.
By the time I reached the scene (let’s just say at a more “grandma-appropriate pace”), Gunnar was already surrounded like a celebrity after a scandal. I half-expected someone to ask for paw-tographs.
Later that evening, Grandpa returned from his walk, only to be greeted by three stern-faced grandsons who made it very clear: never, ever, EVER leave the house again without Gunnar.
As for Gunnar? He gave Grandpa the cold shoulder the rest of the night. His silent protest was loud and clear:
“You betrayed me, Grandpa. You broke the sacred Walk Covenant.”
For added flair, he made a dramatic point of turning his back to Grandpa every time he sat down, while still keeping one eye on him, just in case there was a rustle of the leash.
Moral of the Story: Never say the word “walk” in front of a dog unless you mean it—because dogs have long memories, short legs, and absolutely no sense of forgiveness.
Story is non-fiction
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