Lightning Strikes Twice

My wife, Abbye and I were halfway around the park during this morning’s walk when the old man hobbled out from the cul-de-sac and onto the sidewalk ahead of us. He had a dog on a leash…a wiry medium-sized female of indeterminate breed, perhaps a terrier mix.

We hung back, to let them move further ahead of us; at that point in our walk, Abbye wasn’t leashed, as she is well-trained to heel, sit and stay…as long as she’s not too close to other dogs.

The man appeared to be in his 80s and limped as if he had severe arthritis or, perhaps, an artificial hip. His dog, whom we heard him refer to as “Ginger,” was active, darting back and forth ahead of him at the end of one of those retractable leashes.

We continued on our usual route around the park, at a safe distance behind the pair. They stopped briefly while Ginger did her business, and the old man stooped with a plastic bag in hand to pick up after her. They resumed their hobbling and darting progress until they came to the fork in the sidewalk where we intended to exit the park and continue on our usual route through the neighborhood.

I was a little puzzled as the old man passed by the trash can just off the sidewalk (he was still carrying the poop-filled plastic bag), and it struck me that he was heading for the dumpster just ahead of us, across the alley. But to get there, he’d have to step over a low slung cable strung between posts set in the ground to act as a simple barrier between the park and the alley. He didn’t appear to be spry enough to complete that maneuver — especially with an active dog on a leash — but I figured that appearances were deceiving. In addition, by that time Ginger had spotted Abbye and was acting a little frantic about it. In fact, we elected to put Abbye back on her leash as we walked past them. I thought it was overly cautious, since we were at least 50 feet away and heading further away, but my wife insisted.

We came to the end of the sidewalk, which intersected with the same alley that the old man was attempting to gain access to, and we glanced over just in time to see exactly what we feared: he caught his trailing foot on the wire, and in seemingly slow motion, fell heavily forward onto the pavement of the alley.

As he hit the ground, he lost the leash. In the blink of an eye, Ginger darted toward Abbye and in a horrible flash of deja vu, snapped at her, sending golden fur flying. My wife screamed and Abbye yelped before I managed to grab the loose end of Ginger’s leash and jerk her away.

Having temporarily dealt with one crisis, we turned to the other. The man was still sprawled on the pavement, although he was attempting to get to his feet, and did so by the time I could get over to check on his condition. About that same time, Ginger jerked on her leash hard enough to pull out of her collar and headed back toward Abbye, who was in my wife’s protective grasp. Ginger kept running, crossing the street and continuing down the alley on the other side.

The old man said he was OK, although his arm was scraped pretty badly. He said that Ginger wouldn’t return while Abbye was still around, so we took that as a hint and left him to his own devices to retrieve his dog and make his way home.

Needless to say, we were absolutely dumbfounded. We’ve had Abbye almost eight years and have never had an encounter with an aggressive dog, and now we’d had two in less than three weeks.

This one has turned out to be a little more serious, too. The other dog actually managed to get to her skin, unlike the black lab. The skin wasn’t broken, but it was red, and she’s really sore this evening, as I write this. In fact, we’ve given her a Rimadyl to take the edge off the pain. We’ll watch her closely and if she’s not better in the morning, it may be time for a visit to the vet.

I know this is just a bizarre set of coincidences, but if anyone knows where we can find a set of body armor for a gentle little dog, give me a holler. We’re not taking anymore chances!