It was a regular Saturday afternoon at this blogger’s home. Life on Saturday. I was doing a bit of mom mowing and generally putting around the house when a sudden crescendo of my youngins hoopin’ and hollarin’ caused me to look out the front room window. There, barreling toward the front door were my 5 and 7 year olds hand in hand. As they piled inside, red-cheeked and panting they eventually explained that they were fleeing for their life—from Pepper. The curly little neighborhood free roaming dog. Who’s the size of a fruit cake.
I did the comfort thing all while stifling my laughter because they were genuinely terrified. And I couldn’t help but think how proud I was of my 2 ‘fraidy cats. They were facing certain death at the paws and jaws of Pepper but they had the presence of mind to stick together and to run.
My own solidarity/survival instinct track record is not so stellar. There was that one time, in ’88. My younger sister and I were playing in the street when a free-roaming dog in our neighborhood—who was more the size of a fruit cake on ‘roids—gave chase. I’d like to say I scooped her up or even grabbed her hand and hauled arse. I’d like to, but I can’t. I hauled one solitary arse, mine. But I did yell C’mon!!! Ruuuuuuun!!!! We both got away un-scathed but it wasn’t my proudest moment.
image from redriverpak.files.wordpress.com
More recently I had another dog vs. man moment. I was visiting a friend and taking her some food I’d prepared. As I stood at the back of my mini-van with the hatch ajar to retrieve said food I heard behind me the undeniable sound of panting and hoofs (?) pounding the pavement. I turned and to my horror there were TWO red-eyed, meaty jowled pit bulls bounding toward me. They were about a 4 feet away yall.
Did I run? No.
Did I jump in the open hatch and close it? No.
I stood stark still. Filled with terror.
I did manage to rebuke them in the name of The Lord and (Hallelujah) they stopped.
And then they advanced again. It took a couple more loud, panicked rebukings and my friend coming to her front door with her WTH face on before the animals retreated for good.
I would later marvel at my reaction. Fight or flight my eye. Walter Bradford Cannon needs to add a 3rd reaction: stand perfectly still praying/rebuking/hoping to evaporate and re-materialize in safer environs. Thank you very much Sir.
life on tuesday 