between the barks

i was at my spot again yesterday off the trail by the creek. after half an hour there, i walked back to the trail and found a dirt path heading in a different direction, so i took it. it led me out to a familiar scene, part of an abandoned golf course where i often run. i was disoriented at first because i wasn't expecting to be there, and then i saw a dog -- a little poop colored chiuaua. it approached me somewhat aggressively, but i wasn't startled... after all, it was only a couple times bigger than our rat. the owner came walking up, and then the dog decided to bark. i started involunarily, which embarrassed me a bit especially when the owner said (with a sardonic grin, i think), "don't worry his bark is bigger than his bite." my thought was, put the little sh*t on a leash or put it out of my misery.

i continued walking. it was a beautiful day; as crisp and sweet as any i've experienced recently. i approached a small bridge that ran over the creek, and noticed red blossoms from the trees above carpeting the ground as if a wedding procession with an overzealous flower girl had just passed. as i approached the end of the course, i heard barking again and a couple of unleashed dogs approached me aggressively. two sh*t hued hounds (dachsunds i believe) ran right up to my ankles, yapping like cocky juveniles might to a homeless man they pass on the street. i stepped back, because even though they couldn't cause serious damage, they were all too close for comfort, and i didn't particularly need a pair of dog slippers after i put my feet up their asses ( but i hadn't counted the idea out either). the owner eventually came out of the backyard apologizing profusely. i accepted graciously and moved on.

it seems to me that there are often annoying dogs nipping at your ankles, barking at you simply because you exist. perhaps the best policy is just to keep walking and enjoy the intervals (however short they may be) between the barks.