Precarious

As it turns out I do not have an entry for today's Mono Monday theme of "Humor." But I do have a shaggy dog story.

I’ll say right up front that I’m not a “dog person” and do not particularly enjoy encountering them while hiking, especially if they are unleashed. 

So while heading up Flying Mountain this morning it was hard not to get grumpy at all the canines about. One at the parking lot, two at the summit, and I could hear what sounded like several more while down a spur trail enjoying the overlook. I thought I’d wait there a bit, hoping whoever was coming would decide to keep going straight. After a bit it sounded like they were getting closer, so I decided to head back to the main trail and keep going. Sure enough, when coming to the junction, I spotted an unleashed dog there in the trail staring at me. It had obviously gotten ahead of its owner, and seemed friendly enough, but still. Dogs are supposed to be leashed in the park. It turned around and I continued on my way. Eventually had to slow down so as not to catch up to a family with, you guessed it, an unleashed dog. At the bottom of the hill the trail came to a wide cobblestone beach where, thankfully, there was room enough for us all to explore without getting in each other’s way. Of course then it also started to rain. 

Heading back to the car along a fire road, who should I meet but two concerned dog owners, asking me if I had come across a loose dog on my hike. I described the creature I had seen up near the overlook, pointing out it was quite a way back. Turns out it was their dog. I was polite, but of course inwardly I was thinking, “Well, that’s a natural consequence, isn’t it?” Admittedly I felt somewhat churlish, knowing how I’d feel if it was my pet, but as I said, I’m not a dog person, so there it is. 

Which is probably why, karmically speaking (if that’s a word), I came across the same dog, soaking wet, wandering along the roadside about a mile away as I was driving home.

What, dear reader, was one to do?

Curiously enough, I pulled over and gave the dog a friendly greeting. She came right over and let me pet her, then jumped up into the car when I opened the back. I returned to the trailhead and came across some people who were able to direct me to where the owners had headed down to the shore still looking for “Ellie,” for that’s who it turns out I had. Obviously they were glad to see her again, and all’s well that ends well I suppose.

Not sure there’s a moral here, but quite frankly it seems a very unusual situation that would have me be the one coming to a dog’s rescue.