It Finally Happened

I am a card-carrying Nervous Nellie. It is possible for me to see danger and oncoming doom around every corner. Thus the reason it is a minor miracle that I now enjoy spending time outdoors alone. Mind you, I still remain on high alert and keep an eye on my surroundings.

Unfortunately, doom did present itself during a recent pre-dawn walk in the neighborhood last week. Mr. Doom was a white, muscle-bound dog with one apparent agenda, my hide. For a brief moment I hoped for an owner to magically appear and get Mr. Doom under control, but that was clearly not going to happen.

As my life flashed before my eyes, I quickly looked for vertical space, a.k.a. car, pickup, boat or castle. Sadly, my location was such that Mr. Doom was blocking any hope of crawling upward for safety. Plan B time. As Mr. Doom barreled toward me, barking and growling like he owned the neighborhood, I did the only thing I am really good at. I yelled. (Sorry to the neighborhood.) I screamed, "Stop!!!" Mr Doom paused for a moment but continued on his death mission. So I started yelling the only dog talk I know, "Go home. Go home. Go home." (Again, sorry to the neighborhood. I am a loud person.)

This time Mr. Doom slowed down and gave me enough space to ease myself near a car in a driveway. With a pseudo-fence between myself and Mr. Doom, I continued to yell and, miraculously, Mr. Doom lost interest in me. If I had needed a Plan C I was going to stop, drop and roll. I was grateful I didn't have to resort to flopping around on someone's lawn like a dead fish. I had visions of Mr. Doom ripping at my jugular and watching me bleed out on a random sidewalk, only to be discovered by a kindly garbage truck driver. Yes, I am blessed with an active imagination.

When I was confident Mr. Doom was going the opposite direction, I took a deep breath and continued my walk. I should thank Mr. Doom for the additional adrenaline he provided for me. The rest of my trek was easy breezy. I also am thankful for the lessons Mr. Doom taught me. Lean into your superpower when the going gets touch. Mine is yelling and that served me well this round. Also, do not let a bad apple ruin the whole pie. I am going to continue to walk outdoors, night or day. I am not a fan of being held hostage by the canine world and I must claim my turf. (I sound brave now. I am not.)

I hope Mr. Doom found his way home. And, I hope Mr. Doom's owners make better decisions with their pet care-taking. At the risk of being judgey, here is my PSA for the week: Not all folks love your dog as much as you do. Respect the leash and have a good day.