Ever been Chased by a Chihuahua? A childhood memory. Aug 20, 2019 17:21:24 GMT -5
Post by Radrook Admin on Aug 20, 2019 17:21:24 GMT -5
Chased by a Chihuahua by Radrook
It was summer, and we had gone camping in the Catskills again as usual. We were in need of supplies and had gone to a nearby town to restock. By we, I mean me, my parents, and my cousin George, who physically resembled the comedian Jerry Lewis but far skinnier. The car was parked next to this little grocery store and my parents had gone ahead and entered first. My cousin and I followed a little distance behind and noticed there were girls who were about to pass us by. I was eleven at the time, was fanatically bodybuilding, and was sure that I would be the future Steve Reeves or Lou Ferrigno. I was also certain that girls loved muscles. So wanting to impress the girls, I tensed my abs, thrust my chest out and tensed my pectorals while spreading out my Latisimus Dorsi, or back muscles, to their maximum width. I was wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt specially designed to accentuate musculature, so I was confident that I had impressed, and so continued rooster-strutting proudly towards the store.
Well, all remained fine with my universe until we neared its entrance. That's when I noticed this beige Chihuahua, resting on its stomach by the store's narrow door. The dog had not reacted to my parents nor my cousin as they passed. But to my surprise, as soon as he saw me, he started growling as if intending to bite. Why? Beats me. Maybe because of the cautious way I was looking and approaching him due to knowing how long its teeth really were? I had discovered that via examining my pet dog's teeth at age nine. Although a puppy, those teeth were impressive. I realized that had my little dog wanted to, it could have inflicted serious damage with those choppers. So the Chihuahua's size was irrelevant. Only its teeth mattered.
After nervously walking past it, I began worrying about having to pass the Chihuahua again when I left. I wondered if there was another exit to the store, but was ashamed to ask the owners. So I decided to man-up and ignore the dog. As I started to leave, I hesitated by the door. The dog had remained totally indifferent my cousin's. As if he didn't exist. In fact, it even looked drowsy and on the verge of falling asleep as it lay on its belly under the Catskill sun. So I figured that it was OK for me to waltz by and get into the car. I was dead wrong! It was not OK! As I began passing him, he growled, got up, pointed his snout at my ankles, and began baring its teeth.
The rest was pure instinct. The entire world faded into a unimportat background. The only thing that existed was the dog, his sharp menacing teeth, and my vulnerable ankles. Instinctively, as if suddenly involved in some hellish dream, I found myself leaping over the platform banister separating the store from the street, landing on both feet, and heading up the sidewalk at a dead-run. Believe me, I was a very fast runner, one of the fastest in the neighborhood among kids my age, but the dog was faster.
I realized this as I began hearing his short legs churning on the hot sidewalk cement behind me and quickly closing the distance. Obviously, it was just a matter of time before he would overtake me. So when I thought he was near enough to sink his teeth into my ankle, I slid to a stop, pivoted swiftly, and headed back up the street towards the store and the car. Unfortunately, the chihuahua immediately did the same. Twas then that I suddenly realized that it was equally as important for him to catch and bite me, as it was for me to prevent getting caught ad bitten.
True, the car was parked by the store and within reach, but pausing to open the car door, would provide it with the opportunity it needed to accomplish its mission. So whenever I arrived parallel to the car and the store, I would slide to a stop swivel around, and furiously head back up the street with the chihuahhua hot on my heels. Back and fourth we went as if tethered together for what for me seemed an eternity.
Fortunately on the fourth sequence of this tableau, I heard my cousin call out from the car, saw him open the back door and beckon me in. No further encouragement was needed. Needless to say, I executed a left oblique and jumped in head-first imagining that the Chihuahua would follow and savagely maul me there. But to my surprise, he didn't. In fact, it was nowhere in sight.
For a moment I lay in that back seat staring at that ominous open car door and expecting to see it flying in head first while displaying its teeth. Then I realized that wasn't going to happen. So I cautiously reached out and slammed the car door shut.
Then I sat there in silence for a while with the fear still palpable. That's when cadaverously-skinny cousin George began his usual routine. He began in a serious tone as usual, casually informing me how he had been observing my upper body going back and forth from his vantage point in the car, and had been wondering why I was frantically running back and forth that way. How he finally caught sight of the Chihuahua hot on my heels. Apologized for not having opened the door sooner. Then, of course, as usual, he burst out laughing. Of course, I saw nothing funny about it. Girls I had wanted to impress across the street were giggling, and I felt like digging a hole, and jumping in. Minus the Chihuahua jumping in after me-of course.