Here's what I posted on the Sugar Busters diet support board today where we're supposed to post our daily exercise:
Subject line: 3 miles with 2 dogs...and an attack by 1 Siberian Husky!
Post: It was awful. After his initial pounce on my larger Lab, Misha, I looked up and there was no one...NO ONE...on the track. This dog didn't belong to anyone in sight, and we were on our own at the back of the park to fight off this Hound of Hell!!!
My first thought? "Oh, crap. This is gonna be a bloodbath."
He backed off a little after I yelled at him, but then it attacked two more times. I scooped up the puppy after the first onslaught, even though she cowed into a submissive posture the first time he pounced on us (from BEHIND! never saw him coming!!) but he still terrorized her...not quite *biting,* but snarling and gnashing his teeth and generally freaking her out, and her little heart was pounding...nearly as hard as mine!
Meanwhile, Misha was not taking this attack on her "little sister" lying down. She was snarling and snapping and giving as good as she got, trying to get the Bad Dog to back away from us. She was so noble and brave, and...I apologize to that crazy lady on the board who hates it when I talk about my dogs...BUT I WAS SO PROUD!!!!
Eventually, the owner pulled up in a white pickup. The Husky wouldn't come when he called (or do ANYTHING he said), so Mr. Military Man in his "Hooah!" shirt had to get out of his truck and PULL his dog off of us by the collar.
Here's something weird...as he walked away from us with his menacing Devil Dog in his arms, I think the guy turned around and said, "Thank you." (My MP3 player was too loud to hear what he said...plus, factor in my ragged breathing and heart thudding...and it was impossible to hear Hooah Harry.)
Maybe he was as freaked out as I was and had a case of random word diarrhea...knowing he ought to say *something* to the pale trembling lady, but unable to come up with the words "Sorry about that!"
To celebrate living through The Siberian Skirmish with just scratches & scrapes & muddy pants & a thorough saliva-soaking, we went down the playground slide 5 times!!
When I got home and told hubby the story, he asked if I got the guy's license plate so I could report the guy. I admitted that I was too busy praying prayers of thanks to make note of the license plate or truck model.
Whee!! Another exciting weekend.
Off to church to offer another prayer or two of gratitude,
your pal in Texas