Running for our Lives

Last night after dinner I needed to get out of the house.  Do you ever have those moments when the desire to “go out” feels similar to what inmates must feel when they decide a jail break is in order?

Not that I’ve ever been involved in a jail break, so I don’t speak from experience.  Just want to be clear.  Sometimes my written words don’t exactly communicate my message.

So after dinner, we piled into the car and went down to the river’s edge.  Actually my entire family sat in the car waiting for me, but I had no idea they left.  I guess I was off in lala-land.  Not uncommon, but annoying just the same.

I just realized “down to the river’s edge” sounds a little John The Baptist.  Our experience wasn’t exactly spiritual unless you count the flight for our very lives.

After peering into the windows of a closed, but super-cute little boutique, I crossed the condemned bridge (condemned because it will crumble under the weight of vehicles, but perfectly safe for foot-traffic…Hmmm, I’m convinced) to meet my family who were so absorbed in looking at ducks, they didn’t miss me.  These ducks must be polar ducks, because that water is one degree warmer than ice.

About a hundred baby steps down the three-mile paved trail, I tore my eyes from ice formations still hanging from the rocks across the river and looked straight ahead.  Into the eyes of a the biggest, slobber dripping, dog I’ve seen since Turner and Hooch.

This not-so-friendly looking beast charged straight for us.

Of course we did what all responsible sane adults would do.  We ran for our lives, yelling for our children to follow.  Sheer panic doesn’t necessarily describe our feelings.  It was more like, “I refuse to die under a mountain of drool, dog hair, and razor sharp teeth.”

We burst through the doors of my husband’s old school chum’s coffee/ice-cream shop with a blast of cold air and a need for oxygen.  The girl behind the counter probably couldn’t decide if she should give us coffee or call 911.

We all settled for an ice-cream.

I’m definitely counting the escape run as exercise,  canceling out all calories from my blueberry cheesecake frozen yogurt.

The End.



17 thoughts on “Running for our Lives

  1. robinaltman

    Aren’t you supposed to stand still and not look them in the eyes? Or put your bicycle between you and the dog? Something like that. Or maybe that’s for bears…

  2. TheIdiotSpeaketh

    See what happens when you get out? You get an adventure….getting chased by a rabid dog…right into an ice cream shop… That is pretty cool! 🙂

  3. pegbur7

    I would have been afraid he would be waiting outside the shop when I came out. Then he would have gotten you AND the added sweetness of the ice cream you just devoured! Great story.

  4. Jill

    I would have run screaming from the drool, and I would NOT have been so foolish as to stand around waiting to see what the demon-dog had in mind before I decided to take flight. And near-death experiences should always be followed by ice cream. Good choices all around.


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