Two Dogs
Back in my schooldays, my walk home from the station took me along a path where to the left of me was open parkland, to the right the housing estate I lived on, a line of six-foot-high garden fences punctuated every now and again by an alleyway leading to the roads onto which the houses faced. I did that walk hundreds of times over the years, but one in particular sticks in my mind three decades on.

Approaching one of the gaps between the houses I heard something approaching at speed, as well as a girl's voice, rather fainter, shouting "come back, come back!" I had no idea what it was, but soon found out as two dobermanns came tearing through, turned on a sixpence as they spotted me, and pinned me against the fence. I could feel their breath on my face, their claws against my shoulders, I could certainly hear their snarling, and I could probably have hazarded a decent guess which brand of dog food they ate.

Not that I was too conscious of any of that at the time. I was petrified, torn between shaking uncontrollably or screaming - perhaps both - but aware that doing either would probably be a very, very bad idea.

Shortly after - seconds, but it really did seem like hours as the cliché goes - the girl came running through after them. She was aged 10, 11 maybe, certainly a few years younger than me.

She managed to call them away from me and the three disappeared the way they came. The thought of giving her a piece of my mind wasn't an option - there was no way I was going to raise my voice to her while those two dogs were around and off the leash.

I'll never forget what she said to me, though, when she first came round the corner and saw me there, up against the wall with two slavering dogs apparently ready to rip my head off.

"Try not to frighten them."

As if.
(Capo, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 21:57, Reply)