In the mid-to-late 80s, I lived with two other guys. We adopted a German Shepard puppy from a rescue shelter - we named her Vixen. Vixen was way too smart for her own good; she was especially good at problem solving and even turning things into tools. I might post other antics, but let me offer up the following at least.
Let me post a photo of the kind of fencing that surrounded our home before I go further. It’s solid wood boards with the typical 2”x4” rails at the very top and bottom. The boards are 5’ tall but raised a few inches off the ground so the fence is closer to 5.5’ tall.
View attachment 13432
One night - very dark for certain but with a nearly full moon - we let Vixen out into the backyard because she was scratching at the sliding glass door. Some minutes later, we heard scratching at the front door. This house had a full height side light window (about 6” wide) to one side of the front door. I peeked through the side light window and saw Vixen sitting on the front door step. So I let her in and then went to the side of the house to see if one of us left the gate open. Nope, the fence gate was closed and locked.
I joined my roommates in our very early version of a man-cave and told them what happened. One of them suggested that maybe Vixen had dug a hole under the fence. So I went out and confirmed that was not the case.
Shortly later, Vixen scratched at the back door again, so one of us let her out. And, again she ends up “knocking” at the front door to be let back in. This happened again for a third time the same night. Since it was getting late, we were growing anxious to learn what was happening.
So we let her out into the backyard again. We only had one small wattage light on the back of the house so the yard on either side of the house can be very dark especially the one side we shared with our neighbor. So this time I followed Vixen out into the backyard while one of my roommates exited the front door and circled around to the other side of the fence.
Then I see Vixen stretch up on her hind legs, using her front claws she hooks on to the top fence rail, then using her back claws she climbs up the vertical fence board. She wasn’t paying any attention to me standing a few feet behind her in the backyard. But once she got half way over, she saw my roommate staring at her on the other side of the fence. So she finished clawing her way up the fence board, pulled her back legs up, and balanced on the top rail with all four paws huddled together in just a few square inches. She was clearly trying to make a decision about her next move while she balanced there.
Besides taking in the whole of the event, one of the things that I remember best about that moment was her silhouette. The moon was shining down from the front of the house. So Vixen was only a black shadow from where I stood. With her paws gathered up under her, her hind legs - her knees - stuck up and out to the sides. I remember thinking that with her legs in that position, and her big ole head and ears, that it looked like Batman was staring back at me from the other side of the fence.
So that night we learned that we could no longer leave Vixen alone in the backyard. And we wondered how many times she might have done that while we were at work. We did learn months later from a neighbor down the block that she had in fact seen Vixen roaming the streets some days. But the one time she tried to approach Vixen, Vixen just ran back home and climbed back over the fence again.