Every weekday morning, I walk the right, left, right, right route to my office. This day was only different in the common way – different in that the weather had shifted. Comrat is transitioning to oncoming fall.
I stopped for a donut, which has become my breakfast habit (it’s hard to resist a meal right on the road, costing only about US $ 0.50). I grinned at the same young woman I see every morning, made a joke about my frequent visitations, she humored me with a smile and I hopped from the corner bakery to the crosswalk.
Pause, survey, note the lingering men, walk forward.
A few feet past the edge of the next corner, I heard a terrible cacophony of yowls and yips. I pulled out of my head and into the scene roiling to my right. A group of Comrat’s itinerant mutts led by an alpha were terrorizing a smaller beast with dangling tits. All rushed in my direction. The larger dog, flanked by three lackeys, tore at the neck of her victim as they flipped and rolled forward.
My thought, a variation of which generally arises when encountering any type of territorial display, was some profane iteration of “stupid dogs.”
By the time the thought faded, the little one had smashed into my legs. My human neighbors glanced as I scolded the smaller dog: “Idiot.” I reached for her, but she flinched away. I lost interest and walked on.
But the little bitch followed me for the next few blocks. I turned to address her a few times, offering friendship, but was systematically rejected. And though I expected my attentions to deter her, she continued to trot in my wake.
We made it all the way to the school in front of my office together. As soon as I entered the group of milling students, she tore off.
I suppose terror dog had just found her temporary protectress. But I was a little tickled – it’s curious how moments of violent collision can form a bond otherwise unattainable. It’s certainly not the first time it’s happened here.
Categories: Stories and Culture