I came around the corner and heard
barking. It was 5:00am and
Pittsburgh was just waking up. To my right was the
Allegheny river and the city sky line, on on the little side street charging towards me were two
dogs with
no collars and they were
not happy. Instantly I stopped. I had been
running admiring the night, anticipating the sun rise and now I was imaging myself
gored by the little
vicious beasts. I was on their
territory. This was an
ancient conflict. I know about dogs,
I love dogs. Some times I feel like I am a dog: the whole world whizzing by, beyond my simple comprehensions: my lust for
sex, for
food, for
sleep.
I stood my ground met eyes with the dogs and
barked back as low as I could “
Bad Dog, You Go Back.” This seemed to work. I didn’t dare retreat. I had to pass them on the road, so I walked forward as heavily as I could. I tried not to think about my bare legs or how easy
sharp teeth could draw
blood from them. I was bigger than the dogs. Not, much bigger, but I was stronger, I
puffed myself up and advanced. “Bad Dogs. Bad Dogs.” I said. The smaller one seemed to know the song I was singing and he put his
tail between his legs and went back into the trees, but the
big dog stayed, not barking, just
watching. I passed him, maybe ten feet away, always holding the
eye contact. Trying to stay steady.
Now came the hard part:
turning my back on him. I looked over my shoulder now and then and I was always watched.
Poor dirty bastards, I wonder what they thought I wanted with their little
scrap of
dirt?