When I go running I am careful to walk when I approach a dog. When I come home in the evenings, I am careful to avoid the pathway 20 yards from my house where the neighborhood pack hangs out. This afternoon, I let my guard down for one second. Idiot!
The sun was setting as I left for my run. I threw on my most non-sexy, long, beige shorts in an attempt to be appropriate and not offend anyone. Ew. My ipod was on, and I didn’t notice the pack of dogs to my right. I heard barking and saw the alpha male of the pack 25 feet away, running full speed at me, barking, and growling.
I remembered what a friend told me to do. I looked around for a rock. None. When I remembered to reach for a pretend one, the dog was already too close, and I was afraid to bend over. So what did my dumb ass do: ran more.
I think it may have been a blessing in disguise that I ate shit on a rock. I was afraid that any second I would feel a bite, but all I heard was growling, and I realized the motherfucker was standing five feet away snarling as if I was too pitiful to eat. Cars stopped in the road and a man had opened his door, about to get out to help me. I walked away slowly. More cautious and humbled.
My legs are rallied, and I just chomped on a bit of leftover sand, but no bites and no rabies shots.
The second lesson I learned today was that, the only thing more entertaining to watch than a chillip running, is a chillip in beat ass, beige shorts, running with bloody knees. F my life.