It was Friday.
Last Friday actually.
The weather was nice and sunny so I decided to go for a jog. (I know right?! I too was surprised.)
Anyhoo, I don’t know if it was the path I chose or the time I went, but my peaceful little forest with the cute twisty paths was crowded.
And eeehevvverybody seemed to have a dog in tow.
Super sized, mini, extra fluff, bald, old dog, new dog, red dog, blue dog (as you can see I’m quite familiar with the finer works of Dr. Seuss)
It was like a freaking dog epidemic.
Now the big dogs I didn’t mind. They just regally raised their heads and royally sniffed my way as I passed.
The little dogs however….ohhoboy did they put my patients to test.
You’re probably thinking “Gosh, Cora I know you are a cat person, but how bad can a wee dog be? All it does is bark…”
In which case I must answer with a “Au contraire my friend.”
You see, the barking I can handle. It’s the attacking that gets to me.
Yup, that’s right I was attacked. 3 times.
The first assault came from a black and brown thing with pointy ears and the looks of dog you’d call “Rex”. It jumped at me from behind (barking of course), mostly scaring the heck out of me. This one I could stare down with my infamous evil eye without being bothered too much.
The second was a little more persist, circling me even after I shooed it off and making me stumble. It only stopping when his owner, finally done laughing, call him back.
The third ambush, however, was the worsed:
There I was happily bob bob bobbing along (bob bob bob), minding my own business and concentrating on not dying when suddenly I hear headache inducing yapping.
The next thing I know I’m surrounded by two super sized naked mole rats. One of which is jumping at me, scratching my leg and snarling. The other assumes the cheerleader role and edges his buddy on.
I tried to jog on but the beasts followed me! There weren’t any branches low enough for me to climb on. I was trapped!!
And get this the owners, two elderly women, just stood there watching as their monsters ate me alive!!!
Maybe I was tired out from the running or maybe my tolerance level was already low thanks to the two previous vicious animals, but something within me snapped.
I whirled around, looked down at the dog that was nipping my leg and yelled “GET OFF” in my best imitation of a low and scary Mr. Incredible voice.
The petty wimp immediately backed off , still yelping, but at least it had stop harassing my limbs.
Then, and this is the part I’m not too proud of, I turn to the old ladies and shout “Control our over sized rats, would you!” and then I ran off, steaming.
So there you have it, the first time I screamed at an elderly (two at that! blush ) and felt the urge to kick a dog.
To conclude, it was not a good run.
But I guess on good thing came out of the whole escapade, it did make me realize beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a cat person.