Well, maybe not all dogs. I seem to remember a Doberman Pincer when I was about 10 who scared the ever lovin’ crap out of me. We lived just a block from a convenience store and my mom told me to walk myself up to the store to get a gallon of milk. It was my very first time allowed to go to the store by myself. I only ever walked to school and home. There was no wandering the neighborhood or anything, so you can imagine how proud and happy I was. I was finally growing up!
So I’m sauntering down the street. Okay, it was more like skipping and muttering “One gallon of milk, one gallon of milk” the entire way. The street curved so there was a blind spot ahead. I didn’t pay any attention. But when I came around that curve, there was a huge Doberman sitting on the edge of its property. It saw me and barked. I saw it and stopped dead in my tracks. I went cold because that sucker had huge teeth and its head was at the same height as my throat. It stood and barked again. I took a step back, all thoughts of milk, being a grown-up, and anything else I might’ve been thinking of fading away.
It took a step forward and I screamed, “MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!” and took off running. The dog kind of yiped and ran back to its yard. I don’t know if it was scared by my lung capacity, my graceless running, or the thought that my mom – who was in our house a block away – might’ve heard her daughter’s cry for help and come to handle up on it. I ran the entire way home, waiting to feel that dog’s teeth in my leg, butt, head, whatever. Images of my mother finding me torn to shreds played through my head. I made it home, panting, sweating, and crying like…well, like a little girl. My mom, who was making pancakes and needed that milk, turned around and said, “Where’s the milk?”
I hated dogs after that. I wouldn’t play with them, didn’t trust them, and thought they were goofy. Then, I got a dog and now I’m a convert. Dogs love me. It’s really embarrassing. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come home with a pit bull in my yard trying to get in my house because…well, I’m just that awesome apparently.
So really, it shouldn’t be any surprise when Tawna Fenske (a hilarious lady with a unique way of picking contest winners) allowed her dog to choose the winner of her What the @#$% is that? contest, her dog chose my ball. Bwahahaha. Now, if it had been a cat picking the winner, then no doubt the cat would’ve gone to my ball and peed on it. That’s just how cool I am.
What a way to start the week!