SLICE #4- NOT ONE OF MY FINER MOMENTS…

It seems like most people's posts portray them in a pretty favorable light.

But I suspect there are two sides to every coin.

So tonight I'm going to post a slice that portrays me in, ummmm, a not-so-favorable light.

It happened this afternoon.

But maybe I should back up a little. This was a really crazy week. Super, super busy, with lots of night stuff. An extra class. A paper due. A class to teach. Papers to grade. On and on and on.

On top of all of the physical busy-ness, it was a grueling week emotionally. My principal, who I have worked with for the last five years, and who I like very much, retired the middle of last week, very unexpectedly. And now we have an interim principal. And it's been really hard. And I'm really tired.

This morning I went to a meeting for the Colorado Children's Book Award, then went to the library to read my students' papers for three hours this afternoon. Then I decided to come home and walk the dog. It was absolutely gorgeous, warm enough to be outside in short sleeves, and I didn't want to miss the day.

I clipped the leash on Star and started out. We were about three blocks from home, when I heard someone screaming. I looked down the street and saw a lady, three or four houses down holding a medium sized black poodle-looking dog. She was screaming at a large German Sheperd mix dog who was trying to get at her little dog.

Then in almost an instant, the German Shepherd turned around. And ran, full speed, straight toward us. Teeth bared. Growling and barking. I was terrified.

I had read somewhere, that if your dog is ever involved in a dog fight, you should let go of the leash, so that your dog has a chance to defend itself. And so that's what I did. I let go of Star's leash, so that my slightly geriatric, overweight,  ten-year-old lab mix might at least have a chance against all of that power and all of those teeth.

The two ran at each other, and I waited for blood. Somehow, though, they didn't fight. Instead, they made big, whirling looping, barking, circles two or three times, and then Star was done.

By that time, a man, evidently the owner of the dog, had arrived at the corner. I could see, now that things had slowed down a little, that the dog was trailing a leash. So maybe he had somehow gotten loose.

But I was so scared I was shaking all over.

And I was so mad. All I had wanted to do was have a peaceful walk with my dog, on a beautiful spring afternoon, after a hard, hard week. And then this happened.

"Get hold of your *** (insert bad word here)  dog, " I screamed.

And I could tell the man didn't know what to say. He just looked at me. He didn't say anything.

I grabbed Star's leash and dragged her down the street.  

And I have been feeling bad about my reaction ever since.

Definitely not one of my finer moments.