Surprise!

Image by Christopher Salerno

            It appears out of nowhere. Slinking up behind me after I turn the corner at Downer and 29^th. I’m mostly off in space, thinking about the woman I just saw dressed entirely in apple red—red sweat pants, red sweatshirt, red sneakers. Except for her sparkly Black Lives Matter black mask. I’d wished her a good morning. She’d said something to me about the sidewalk. “Get off the sidewalk?” Who knows? She could have been talking on the phone, too. And not have seen me at all. 

            And, then I’m just distracted by the birds and the clouds and the trees. As I turn this corner, though, I’m wary of the dog yard. I’ve got these pretty well mapped out. I know which tall fences around specific houses hide the barkers. The one on this corner is always full of barkers. Sometimes I’ll cross the street to avoid being barked at. Yes, I know this is what dogs do. I just get sick of it.          

Today, though, I don’t cross the street, but just stay on the shady side, keeping my eye on the fence, a small hole dug through its bottom.

            I feel It before I see it or hear it. When I turn around, I scream. Loudly. The big black dog looks at me, shocked. Its brown eyes wary. It backs away from me.

Photo by Pixabay

            I scream again; yes, even though the dog has retreated, but only slightly, I can’t help myself. I’ve been bitten one too many times. And the fear just yells out.

The screams don’t deter it. It hasn’t run away. Just stands about 6 feet away, cowering a little. At least he’s socially distant!

            And I wonder. Where the hell is everyone? Here’s a lone woman, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, screaming at 10 a.m. on a Monday morning and NO ONE peeks out their window let alone comes out onto their porch to see if I’m okay.

            What the hell are they all doing? I know they’re not at work. Or if they are working, they’re working at home cuz of the Pandemic. They’re all inside Zooming with their clients, or watching The Price is Right, or playing video games.

            They are NOT looking out for me.

            Immediate panic hits me as I quicken my steps. My heart is pounding. The dog seems submissive, but who knows? I can’t be sure. And it’s out on its own. An escapee, obviously.

As I hurry down 29^th, I turn at Grant instead of heading straight on like I usually do, trying to stay out of the dog’s eye view. I glance down Grant. Another dog is trotting up toward me. This one is a Shepard. He’s on a mission and that mission seems to be me.

            Do I scream again? Do I run? I haven’t run since I was in high school playing on the tennis team. And even then, I loathed running. It gave me such a side ache. Today, 45 years later, I doubt I could run at all.

            Though I would if I had to.

            The Shepard doesn’t give me a second glance, but turns up the street toward the black dog. They greet each other. In doggie conference? Planning their mutual collaboration of snagging the little old lady on her morning walk?

            But no, they decide against this, I guess. Together they trot up the street away from me.

            I breathe. Slowing my step now, but still shaking. A man with a Pitbull is walking toward me. The Pit is on a leash at least. “There’s a pair of stray dogs up 29^th,” I warn him. “Be careful with your pup.”

            The man stares at me, baffled, then comprehends. “Oh, thank you. Yes, I will,” before walking on.

            As I turn down 30^th street, heading home, I think how fraught pandemic walking is. How much dog drama have I encountered in my neighborhood walks the last 10 months?

            A lot!

            Like I’ve said before, it’s exhausting to always be on guard during a seemingly banal activity like walking. Whether it’s a mad dog, a creepy man, or an unmasked kid, the walks are hazardous to my physical and mental health.

            But what can I do? I can’t stop walking. It’s all I have right now in the way of a physical outlet. My swimming options are limited to the Dive Tank once a week because of too many swimmers and not enough lanes available.

            So, I will walk. And I will try to be more aware.

            But this morning. That dog literally came out of nowhere!

            Did he drop out of the sky? Had he crawled under the fence? Did he have anyone who cared for him?

            Or, is he just wandering the streets of Richmond, looking for some companionship?

            Who knows?

            At least he has a buddy. They can go terrorize some other walker. But from now on, I will avoid this corner. Turning up Roosevelt, I begin to calm down. A couple of crows caw caw at a piece of trash on the road before one of them grabs it in its beak and flies away.

          

  And, I watch them soar into the blue sky, their black wings flapping in strong even strokes, I continue my march down the street. The sun on my back, the breeze soft in the trees, the neighborhood quiet and orderly.

            Till the next dog appears....