Bella loved to eat those kinds of raisins--but she got one of those jalapeño sky raisins one day, and sat beside me on the bench, trembling, with her pupils dilated as wide as they would go. She left those raisins alone after that.
Rocky leaped up from his customary spot near the doggy door and poked his head out. He backed out and gave me a look that said, "Take a look outside, dude." I opened the door and saw that a tall white pit bull had dug his way into the yard. It was the second time this same dog had done that. It recognized me from before and gave a lusty bark, then bared his teeth, his mouth looking like that of the abominable in the yearly broadcast cartoon of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I told him to get out of my yard, but every move I made caused him to bark and display those teeth. I reached behind the door and brought out a short aluminum bat, for protection. I did not want to hurt him, but I feared those teeth. I kept going back in, hoping he would just leave, but we kept repeating the same scenario. Finally, I realized he could not get out through the hole he had dug. I fetched a broom and leaned over from the top landing of the ramp I had built for my wife to use, and used the handle to open the gate. It still took another half hour to be rid of him. The dog has tags, is clean and well groomed. Apparently its digging prowess gets him out of his own yard from time to time. I fixed up as much fence as I reasonably could, to discourage his digging, but he likely will be back one day. I hope I am at home next time, for Rocky's sake. He is a gregarious dog, ordinarily, with people and dogs, but this dog could teach him to dig out. I have no clue which street he comes from.