Thursday, November 11, 2004

The Terrible Walk

So, every day when I go out to walk my dog, I think how nice it is to walk my dog and how it's one of my favorite times of the day and how much I should really think of some way to tell you about it. There's the big dog that looks like Dr. Phil, who always barks happily at us when we go by. There's the yippy dog and her friend, the angry silent one. There are two trees who bow out gracefully towards the road next to a little gate in front of a little house. There is a small hill and a stop light and a patch of sidewalk that always fills up with leaves. And there's always a good deal of lolly-gagging on the way home, as we look for good sticks and throw ourselves willy-nilly into the sky. Even when a car pulled over and a guy asked me if I wanted "to date," I still thought it was only slightly scary and more funny. I've never been mistaken for a prostitute before. And sometimes the cars come a little too close for comfort. But, in general, it's always fine. Until today. Today, as Mrs. Wigglebottom and I had made our first right turn, an amorous bulldog came out of nowhere. Mrs. Wigglebottom didn't seem freaked out, so my plan was to shoo the dog home and continue on with our walk. However, he had other plans, which included making sweet love to Mrs. Wigglebottom right in the middle of the road. Even this would have only been annoying (and, since Mrs. Wigglebottom is spayed, pointless) had his life-partner not caught him in flagrante delicto as it were. She was pissed off, folks. Very pissed. Growling, running, teeth-bared pissed off and she lunged and both other dogs and somehow got a mouth full of both of them and pulled him down and into me. He, though, would not be dissuaded. He attempted a remount. She was lunging and snapping. Of course, I was yelling for everyone to go home. I was yelling for help. I was yelling for just about everything. Worse than that, as I was trying to pull Mrs. Wigglebottom to safety, she decided I had lost my mind and her best strategy was to attempt to get as far from me as possible. I don't know if you've ever had three insane dogs at your feet, but it's fucking scary. Finally, some kind woman in a van stopped and helped me. She chased the angry dog back home and I was finally able to appear threatening enough to the amorous dog that he backed off. And Mrs. Wigglebottom and I headed for home. But, the worst part is that Mrs. Wigglebottom has lost all confidence in me. The whole way home, she lagged behind me, tail between her legs, ears down, head down, looking up at me like I was an insane ogre who might beat her to death at any minute. When I tried to check her for cuts and scrapes, she cowered and flinched when I touched her. When we got home, she went straight up to the Butcher's room instead of watching CNN Headline News with me. She didn't even want a treat from me (though, of course, she did take it reluctantly). I feel like a failure as a pet owner. I should have done something, but I don't know what. I keep expecting someone from Animal Planet to show up and confiscate Mrs. Wigglebottom and the cats and take them to some place where they can have an owner who understands how to be a pack leader in a way that makes the animals in our pack feel safe and protected and keeps other animals from harming them.


Blogger the Professor said...

I think Mrs. Wigglebottom is just really embarrassed and ashamed. You know, it is a common response to being sexually assaulted - damn world full of mean misogynist males. And, you saw it all happen. You did help, but that doesn't alleviate her shame. Only coming to realize that she is not to blame, just that mean horny bulldog is.
We'll take some nice walks while you're on holiday and try to help her feel safe and confident again.

11/12/2004 12:46:00 PM  

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