Shit Happens

I am quite used to having my arm yanked out of the socket by ninety pounds of squirrel chasing hound. After three and a half years with Chandler, his penchant for taking off after things is not what surprises me. It's the suddenness of it all that scares the hell out of me. Those sneaky, silent bicycles are the worst. Often they are upon us before I can grab Chandler and keep him calm. I'm sure my neighbors find it humorous to see me spinning around like a top as my dog speeds off in the opposite direction, until he hits the end of the leash. What is most interesting is that Chandler doesn't only chase that which is at his own eye level, he looks up. Low flying airplanes, vultures gliding on thermals just above the road, and squirrels skittering along utility wires get his attention, causing him to jump up in the air and bark madly.

Friday nights, I usually go out for a few cocktails and then return home before Mark so that I can walk the dogs. This past Friday as I stumbled around the block with Chandler in tow, we came to a point in the street where a utility wire crosses the road. Chandler came to an abrupt halt under that wire, and looked straight up. There were no airplanes flying low overhead, which is what he usually sees at night, so I aimed my flashlight up. There on the wire was a sleeping pigeon. A stupid, sleeping pigeon that became startled when Chandler began barking at it. In fact you might say Chandler scared the shit out of it. It was like slow motion, the stream of bird shit shooting from the birds ass, slowly growing in size as it approached me. I'd like to say I jumped out of the way, and that my lightning reflexes saved me from a pigeon shit shower. But no, I have the reflexes of a snail.