You've probably figured out by now that I love dogs. I can't explain it. Dogs appeal to me on some visceral level that people just don't. Most people kind of suck, and most dogs don't. I'd choose a bad dog over a good person any day of the week.
My newest dog pal is my new neighbors black Labrador Retriever puppy named Amos. Like most young dogs, Amos has boundless energy and not a lick of sense. That's part of his appeal. Also like other young dogs, he's a damn Houdini figuring out new and improved ways to escape their back yard fence and finding his way to our yard. Our yard = Valhalla for dogs, but instead of Valkyries we have copious amounts of poop.
We live on a fairly busy street, and Amos' welfare when he gets loose has been an increasing concern of mine.
This morning on my drive to work I pulled onto the local highway (Peachtree Industrial Boulevard, for those who are familiar with Atlanta), and I spotted Amos weaving through four lanes of traffic. My heart dropped just about to my knees, and I made a quick U-Turn to try to corral him.
I pulled over to the side of the road and called him, hoping the idea of a ride in the car appealed to him as much as it does to my dogs. No dice. So I started chasing him down the side of the highway to see if I could stop him. I initially tried to call him to me gently, but when that didn't work I started screaming "AMOS STOP! AMOS STOP!", hoping he might find it in his heart to turn around. Amos thought the chase was a fabulous game and took off running.
At this point both Amos and I are weaving through traffic, but only one of us looks like a moron doing it in a bright floral dress and kitten heel sandals. I think it goes without saying that I didn't catch him.
Eventually I was sweaty and out of breath and Amos didn't look like he was even remotely getting tired, so I decided I'd just go to Amos' house and get his family out to find him.
I hurried back to my car and turned back onto my street to get to Amos' house as quickly as possible. I pulled in the driveway and his Dad was standing next to his truck. I jumped out of my car, took a minute to catch my breath and yelled "Amos is loose on the highway! Amos is loose on the highway!"
Amos' Dad looked at me and then looked into his backyard, where Amos was staring back at him. Then he looked straight at me and said "Nooooo. I'm pretty sure that's Amos right there."
Um, yeah. So I just spent half an hour chasing a strange dog through traffic on the highway. No wonder he didn't stop.
I'm just going to go ahead and admit that Tuesday made me her bitch in record time this week. Is it happy hour yet?