I was just walking home from the cafe with Zephyr on this hot afternoon when this Pomeranian popped out of nowhere and came at us. Now, Zephyr is around 70 lbs. and the little white fluff ball was no more than 25 tops, maybe less under that mass of fur, but the sucker had teeth and he lunged at Zephyr who would have torn him to shreds had I not pulled him back. But I tripped, and Zephyr went down and the dog kept coming at us. Finally I yelled and waved my arms, shooing him back enough to retreat to the safety of a neighbor’s porch. Luckily, the homeowner knew the dog and rallied it back across the street –w/two cars approaching from either side. It was a slam-on-your-breaks and avert your eyes kind of moment, but the little f*k*r got home. Its owner was terribly apologetic, etc, etc, but I was left all shaken. If this had been a bigger dog I would have been screwed–Zephyr would have been screwed.
It’s got me thinking about safety and this seemingly quiet suburban neighborhood. I’ve had to deal with more issues in the 6 blocks from here through the park and to the cafe than I have anywhere else, ever: wayward drunks, thugs, gang bangers, a knife wielding psychotic neighbor who brought out a full SWAT team complete w/armored trucks and helicopter. It was surreal to say the least.
It’s got me thinking about weapons: do I carry a walking stick? Buy Mace? I want a stun gun, but where does one put it? In my purse with my knitting and book?
It’s a new wrench in the cogs. It’s not like I can pick Zephyr up and run for it. I am defenseless and that is not something I think about myself–built in warrior instincts and all. But the tables have turned somewhat. I can no longer rely on Zephyr to protect me, himself, us. I have to be the protector on a grander scale than feeding, caring and loving.
I went back to the Pomeranian’s house and had a talk w/the owner. I was angry, but mostly I was shook up; I was afraid. And she was very decent about the whole thing. Dogs get out; they don’t like other dogs. I get that; I really do.
I think what scares me is not that stuff happens but the way it happens: “Real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4p.m. on some idle Tues,” (Baz Luhrmann).
Still, I feel a need to be better prepared, the question is how?