Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Learning Lessons the Hard Way: Dogs and Chillips, The Other White Meat

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.

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