Little did I know my life was in danger…
It was a sunny afternoon of 68 degrees. Perfect for a stroll through a nice neighborhood. As I walked along the road, a small dog bolted toward me. He was about the size of a Coke can, but in his mind, he was a grizzly bear. He nearly barked his tiny head clean off his tiny body, nipping at my heels the entire time.
I tried to greet the miniature almost-dog with kind words and a “Hello boy”, and “That’s a good girl”, etc. (I don’t know the gender. I didn’t have time to check.) But to no avail. This ferocious carnivore was going to have me for lunch. It may have taken him until Christmas, and by then he would have only gotten to my ankles, but I was clearly the main course. I stopped walking, but he got so close he actually got a bit of my pants leg.
Just then his owner, (or his mommy, or his legal guardian) a young woman of about 20, burst out of a nearby house, and walked briskly toward the attack, already in progress.
“Pippi! Pippi!” She repeated. Her voice was firm, but it seemed her directions were unclear. I assume Pippi was the dogs name, but Pippi obviously didn’t recognize the command. Pee Pee or whatever his name was continued shouting at me like I just stolen his gerbil food.
The woman never looked at me, nor did she say anything to me. She only repeated an increasingly pathetic “Pippi. Pippi!” As her tone and countenance weakened, I said, “Pippi isn’t listening.” Through the continued onslaught of futile “Pippis”, I asked her if I should continue walking. But she acted like I wasn’t there. Apparently Pippi barks at invisible people all the time.
Finally she scooped her precious darling up, and turned back toward the house, never so much as acknowledging me. As I likewise turned to go my way, I muttered, “I think his name is Satan.”
NOW I finally had her attention. “What?”
“Nothing. Cute dog.”