I've got one story under my belt. Not just any story, but the kind you can tell at cocktail parties. And guess what? I don't even go to cocktail parties...not that I've ever been invited to any, but still. I'm not a drinker. But I've got a "cocktail party approved" sticker on this story. Here goes:
One year ago today. It was a beautiful day. Warm, but not hot. Sunny, but not so bright I couldn't see. I had just signed up to run a 5K and decided it would be a great idea if I actually got into good cardio shape, which is somewhat necessary to run a successful 3 mile race. So I head out on my bicycle down our street and turn down another. Perfect, country back roads. What a picturesque way to spend a free September Friday afternoon, right?????
WRONG.
About two miles from my house (told you I was just starting out...I'm no Lance Armstrong), I was heading back. When OUT OF NOWHERE this humongous dog came bolting towards me. More like a man-dog (that's not really an animal or a word, but I thought it would provide you with a more accurate description of just exactly how huge this dog was). Now, I'm used to seeing dogs on this bike ride...I had passed several that had greeted me with a lovely little bark and let me go on my way. Not this one. He decided to chase me up the street for awhile, and then proceeded to tear into my leg. He got some nice flesh. In several different places. Oh, and guess what? He brought a buddy with him. I panicked. Like I said, I wasn't exactly close to my house and I had no idea how long my new friends was going to hang out with me. Being in front of a house I raced my bike into the driveway and proceeded to bang on the door inside the garage. Just my luck...no one was home. The dog had me cornered. He could have ended me right then and there. So I took my bicycle and made a makeshift shelter with it. But THANKFULLY the dog was done with me. He did want to keep watch on me and make it impossible for me to pass by him and laid down at the opposite end of the garage. So, all I had to do was wait. And wait. And wait some more.
The owner finally came home about an hour and a half later. I have often imagined what was going on his mind as he turned in from the driveway to see a hysterical bike rider in his garage with blood covering my legs. It had to have been amusing! So he got me all taken care of and took me back home. Oh yeah, my husband was out of town so my mother-in-law and grandparents took me to the hospital where my mom met us. Everything was fine...they just cleaned me up good. All I've got is a scar and a story to show for it.
WHEW...that was a lot to type...I can look back on this occurrence one year later and laugh and be glad God chose to take care of me (I was in more danger of passing out than anything). And if I ever find myself at some distinguished cocktail party, I have an awesome story to tell that I can exaggerate at just the right places...
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