It could have been one of those perfect days.
I just came back from one great motorcycle ride through a misty morning and into an absolutely picture perfect afternoon. Sweeping backroads. Seeing acquaintances at Miss Blue's Diner in Hundred, WV. Hours of tantalizing fun and speed filled meditation.
I came home and our daughter was already bathed - and she greeted me with one of those Hallmark runs down the hallway that always gets my heart thumping warmly. My wife had one of those sunshine smiles that causes global warming.
I was tired, but for this I could blow the stink off and keep my eyes wide open for as long as they could stand it.
The plans were simple enough: shower, eat a nice dinner, watch a fun kid's movie, put our little girl to bed and then Kristi and I could have the evening to ourselves - to look into each other's eyes and giggle over a glass or two of wine.
Our daughter made the family decision, and understanding that she was perfect that day, we allowed for it. She wanted for us all to go for a walk around the neighborhood - including of course Madison, our dog. The movie was okay, but a perfect finish to a perfect day sounded great.
Now, I have never been nervous about taking both Madison and our little girl out around the neighborhood just by ourselves, though Kristi will not do it. So all of us together made complete sense.
It could have been one of those perfect days.
Taking Madison out for a walk, when there are a million scents in the air is more like taking her out for a sniff, it is a long, long mile. Every blade of grass must be carefully analysed and then peed on. Our daughter is about the same, minus the "spotting".
At one property (normally 20 seconds from our front door to reach) a big, chocolate brown lab, somewhat disturbed came barreling out of the homeowner's front porch and is on Madison. Madison's fur stood up like a fish dorsal fin, in protection mode; she is super-protective and does not get along with other dogs.
The owner, a BC overweight woman, came heavily bounding down her front porch. She anxiously explained that she didn't know how he got out of the house. Drrrrrr.
We continued walking. My normal scowl, which Kristi recognizes right away, appeared as the two littlest Harpers needed to examine Spring, in the slowest form ever.
I pulled Madison. And our daughter did not want to walk anymore, and did not want to go home either - ah - the great toddler mind.
On the Atlantic Avenue, a nicer part of our neighborhood, we continued. We passed by one fella, who his garage door opened to reveal a garage that was more crammed with crap than our own. I commented.
As we moved on. The following house had recently been gutted and the remains of the garbage sat regally out on the owner's front lawn for all to gaze upon. The owners and friends drank out on the back porch overlooking the Ohio River, when suddenly a doberman pinscher came bounding out to the front yard in full battle mode.
Now, Madison is 40 pouinds of friendly, but you get that "dorsal fin" up, and all bets are off.
The doberman and Madison are at it. One lady, BC large, came running out of the backyard, I am certain she handed her Ir'n City off to one of the "men" in the backyard, who either could not be bothered or were filming.
"My dog is friendly."
My dog is not!
The "friendly" dog grabbed the back of Maddie's neck, which is a thickly furred mane of hair. Kristi threw our daughter up on her shoulders. I farted around excitedly trying to retract the stupid "autoleash retracting thingamabob". Grace had allowed our dog to not only break free of the "friendly" doberman's jaws but she sank her teeth into its neck.
Now, I know better than to get in between two fur-flying mongrels, but I grabbed the doberman by the back of the head, and I drove it with my knee to the cement sidewalk, so that the owner in all of her sobriety could grab it.
We walked away very quickly with this woman staring angrily at us.
Kristi used language that I never heard from her mouth before.
Our daughter crossed Atlantic, with absolutely no regard for any traffic, and this got me growling - as I am still in adrenalized defense mode. (Ladies, if your man is in adrenalized defense mode, please, give him a beer and say nothing, he will be scowling for days otherwise.)
And Maddie, shook and forgot all about it. As though nothing happened.
Here's the ridiculousness in summary: Hours of really awesome fun, crescendoing to a welcome home filled with pomp that only kings should be lucky enough to receive, smiles, sunshine - and 1 tiny minute of turd to ruin it all.
I should have been a dog.
I just came back from one great motorcycle ride through a misty morning and into an absolutely picture perfect afternoon. Sweeping backroads. Seeing acquaintances at Miss Blue's Diner in Hundred, WV. Hours of tantalizing fun and speed filled meditation.
I came home and our daughter was already bathed - and she greeted me with one of those Hallmark runs down the hallway that always gets my heart thumping warmly. My wife had one of those sunshine smiles that causes global warming.
I was tired, but for this I could blow the stink off and keep my eyes wide open for as long as they could stand it.
The plans were simple enough: shower, eat a nice dinner, watch a fun kid's movie, put our little girl to bed and then Kristi and I could have the evening to ourselves - to look into each other's eyes and giggle over a glass or two of wine.
Our daughter made the family decision, and understanding that she was perfect that day, we allowed for it. She wanted for us all to go for a walk around the neighborhood - including of course Madison, our dog. The movie was okay, but a perfect finish to a perfect day sounded great.
Now, I have never been nervous about taking both Madison and our little girl out around the neighborhood just by ourselves, though Kristi will not do it. So all of us together made complete sense.
It could have been one of those perfect days.
Taking Madison out for a walk, when there are a million scents in the air is more like taking her out for a sniff, it is a long, long mile. Every blade of grass must be carefully analysed and then peed on. Our daughter is about the same, minus the "spotting".
At one property (normally 20 seconds from our front door to reach) a big, chocolate brown lab, somewhat disturbed came barreling out of the homeowner's front porch and is on Madison. Madison's fur stood up like a fish dorsal fin, in protection mode; she is super-protective and does not get along with other dogs.
The owner, a BC overweight woman, came heavily bounding down her front porch. She anxiously explained that she didn't know how he got out of the house. Drrrrrr.
We continued walking. My normal scowl, which Kristi recognizes right away, appeared as the two littlest Harpers needed to examine Spring, in the slowest form ever.
I pulled Madison. And our daughter did not want to walk anymore, and did not want to go home either - ah - the great toddler mind.
On the Atlantic Avenue, a nicer part of our neighborhood, we continued. We passed by one fella, who his garage door opened to reveal a garage that was more crammed with crap than our own. I commented.
As we moved on. The following house had recently been gutted and the remains of the garbage sat regally out on the owner's front lawn for all to gaze upon. The owners and friends drank out on the back porch overlooking the Ohio River, when suddenly a doberman pinscher came bounding out to the front yard in full battle mode.
Now, Madison is 40 pouinds of friendly, but you get that "dorsal fin" up, and all bets are off.
The doberman and Madison are at it. One lady, BC large, came running out of the backyard, I am certain she handed her Ir'n City off to one of the "men" in the backyard, who either could not be bothered or were filming.
"My dog is friendly."
My dog is not!
The "friendly" dog grabbed the back of Maddie's neck, which is a thickly furred mane of hair. Kristi threw our daughter up on her shoulders. I farted around excitedly trying to retract the stupid "autoleash retracting thingamabob". Grace had allowed our dog to not only break free of the "friendly" doberman's jaws but she sank her teeth into its neck.
Now, I know better than to get in between two fur-flying mongrels, but I grabbed the doberman by the back of the head, and I drove it with my knee to the cement sidewalk, so that the owner in all of her sobriety could grab it.
We walked away very quickly with this woman staring angrily at us.
Kristi used language that I never heard from her mouth before.
Our daughter crossed Atlantic, with absolutely no regard for any traffic, and this got me growling - as I am still in adrenalized defense mode. (Ladies, if your man is in adrenalized defense mode, please, give him a beer and say nothing, he will be scowling for days otherwise.)
And Maddie, shook and forgot all about it. As though nothing happened.
Here's the ridiculousness in summary: Hours of really awesome fun, crescendoing to a welcome home filled with pomp that only kings should be lucky enough to receive, smiles, sunshine - and 1 tiny minute of turd to ruin it all.
