Road to Home

Now 35 in dog years, Luger's adventures had only begun.

He trotted along the side of the road not noticing much as he went, aside from the occasional dead squirrel or spent food container that happened to pass. It was a beautiful, sunny, summer afternoon in Tennessee and the 5 year-old black Labrador Retriever hadn't a care in the world.

At times the wind would bring a peculiar scent to his nose that would spark some curiosity, but Luger's focus was on the road. He had left that strange, confining place where he was picked at by young children and deprived of food for sometimes days at a time. Back home, the rain fell hard through the chicken wire 'roof' and happiness amongst the litter was rare. Finally, Luger had had enough of the sleepless nights spent along side his brethren and took to breaking out, via a chain link vulnerability near his sleeping pad. It had been 10 days or so since his emancipation.

So now...there was nothing to do but venture forth. It was sort of like Luger's coming of age, since he hadn't ever seen land outside of the 10 acres his prior masters owned in Chattanooga. Even as dusk fell and he felt his tender paws ache for rest, as the setting country sun shone pink and orange down on his snout, thinking back to the family he left behind evoked no remorse - Luger was a free dog.

Cresting a long, slow hill in anticipation of a night's sleep perhaps in a tree hollow somewhere, Luger spotted something interesting off in the distance. It appeared to be a rustling of sorts, in a thicket of brush that bordered the dirt road. From his position about 100 yards away, Luger could make out two human figures; one of them was much, much larger than the other and the two were engaged in some sort of struggle. Luger decided to investigate.

"yell yell yell yell yell yell yell!!" heard Luger, as he broached the scene.

"Yell? YELL YELL!! Yell yell yell yell!," came the reply from the other human.

The larger human wrestled the smaller one to the ground and knelt atop him. Luger kept his distance, though his presence was noticed by both of the humans.

"Yell? Yell!! YELL YELL!!," came more cacophony from the humans.

Soon the larger human began hitting the smaller one, bringing his arms and hands down with such force that the sounds of impact made Luger cringe. Soon his instincts got the best of him and Luger felt the hair on his back rise like it did when the boys back home got too rough with him. Setting his sights on the larger human, Luger sprang forth and launched himself at the attacker, barreling towards the two of them at full speed.

Teeth bared and eyes wide, Luger leaped at the taller man and caught his left arm between his jaws, clamping down hard and mashing his eyelids shut. The feeling of flesh being pierced by his teeth and the resulting cry from the man only fueled Luger's rage. Soon the two humans were separated, with the larger one now trying his best to fend off this wild, attacking animal.

Luger shook his head violently while still gripping at the man's upper arm. His tooth hold was lost when the man shook him off, sending Luger to the ground with a mouthful of flannel from the human's shirt, and a good amount of blood on his teeth. The coppery taste was familiar.

For a moment there was silence.

The two humans looked at each other, the smaller of them still on the ground, about 10 feet away from the larger one.

"Yell! Yell yell yell, yell yell yell yell yell. Yell, yell yell. YELL!!" screamed the larger human to the smaller one.

Then, the larger human pushed a hand against his injured arm, turned and began jogging briskly away.

Luger turned and glanced over at the small human laying in the dirt. It was a young boy...blond hair, dirty face, wearing overalls and a backpack.

"Say there, buddy...what's your name?" the boy inquired.

Luger sat and wagged his tail. For a moment the boy was at a loss for words.

He looked into the dogs eyes; Luger looked back.

"Come on. Let's go," he said, "We're late for supper."

And with that, Luger and his new master trotted off to begin their lives together.

To the Woman Who Threw Hot Coffee in my Face Yesterday

I am equal parts confused and frustrated.

You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!

My day started simply enough; I wasn't expecting to be following you into work on I-25, obliviously sipping on my grande Chai latte (2%) and listening to some program on NPR about gays in the military. In case you were wondering I am not gay.

Anyway, why did you have to have a bumper sticker on your '99 Honda Civic that read: "If you're going to ride my ass, at least pull my hair"? I mean, is that not an invitation for a guy like me, brimming with testosterone and foolishly acting on my instincts, to want to drive up beside you, just to see if you're hot or not?

I mean, COME ON! Can you say 'INVITATION'?

Well, once I did manage to get a look at you, I realized you were pretty smokin'. I guess I didn't think you worked in the same building I did. You had both hands on the wheel, at 10 and 2 exactly, with your gorgeous eyes focused keenly on the road. God...safe drivers are SO sexy.

When we both showed up to work at the same time, I wasn't sure if you knew who I was. I mean, I work in sales and you're probably an HR person or something (though that would certainly be interesting considering your taste in bumper stickers).

I thought that when I caught up to you and said "Hey!" that I'd then be able to come up with some witty comment about the traffic that morning but NOOOOO. I had to totally fuck up and say what I did: "If I was riding your ass, I know *I'd* pull your hair!!"

My big, toothy grin following that comment was, I thought, sure to win you over. Plus, wasn't what I said at least somewhat funny?

Apparently NOT as you proceeded to dump your 20 ounces of piping hot hazelnut coffee right on my face! I mean, OW!!

After dealing with the indescribable pain I experienced as your boiling brown beverage coursed down my face and all over my pressed outfit, I found myself feeling sorry for you because now, you didn't have any coffee to drink. Not one drop.

You didn't even look back as you made your way up the stairs and into the building.

Now, aside from being busy nursing my second degree burns, I'm sad.

The people in the ER were very nice to me. And, as tempted as I was to comment on the nurses excellent choice of perfume, I did realize that she had a tray of syringes next to her, and I didn't want THOSE thrown in my face, too.

Oh well.

I hope you got a refill and had a good day.

:)