The Thrill of The Chase

It was already too late. I was a dead man, and I knew it.

Her teeth were out and she was coming for me at a full sprint with that insane glazed-over look in her eyes. There would be no reasoning with her. No negotiations. No quarter given. I knew all this and I also knew it wouldn’t be long before she overtook me. Still, self-preservation is a basic human instinct so I ran and I ran hard. I ran for all I was worth.

When I reached the fence I had just enough time to slam the gate shut behind me, and I’m sure if I had not she would have taken me right there. Still, it was just a steel fence and she smashed right through it with minimal hesitation, but it bought me the time I needed to make it around the next corner. People immediately cleared out of our path when they saw her coming, the abject terror showing in their eyes.

There was no time. I could just feel it slipping away. I needed to do something desperate. There was a large dual-axle pickup truck parked up ahead and I thought that I could make it there before her. The only question was whether or not the doors were unlocked. I figured it was 50/50 at best, and my life surely hung in that balance.

I got there and pulled on the passenger side door handle and my heart leapt when it opened. I climbed in and slammed the door shut behind me, taking a deep breath. A moment later she crashed into the side of the truck like a meteor, rocking it off the ground momentarily and launching me head-first into the dashboard, spidering the windshield in a hundred different directions.

I needed a little time to shake off the disorientation from this impact, but she snarled in fury and tore at the passenger side of the truck and just as I saw the metal starting to give way, I scrambled out the driver side and ran for dear life. Apparently, in her blind rage, she didn’t see this at first and I was able to make some headway as I ran towards the tree line just ahead. I knew it wouldn’t be long now. I just prayed that maybe I could put her off my trail for a minute in that little thicket of woods at the edge of the park. Anything to gain some more time and space before she got to me. 

But I could hear those footsteps coming up from behind, or maybe that was just my mind playing tricks on me. It didn’t matter. I ran all the harder.

As I cleared the trees and came out on the paved walkway bordering the grassy field on the other side, I saw a hot dog vendor and suddenly I had an idea! Caring not at all for the burns to my fingers I reached into the grill, grabbed three tasty frankfurters and tossed them back over my shoulders. I knew this would slow her down momentarily and I had to make good use of the precious time I had just purchased for myself. I shouted an apology back towards the bewildered hot dog salesman and promised to pay him back later.

That was when the whole situation grew truly desperate. Those hot dogs slowed her up briefly, but she scarfed them down fast and was back on my trail in seconds. This was going to be it. I could feel my legs starting to give out, my chest starting to burn with exhaustion. I didn’t have much left. She did. My only comfort lay in knowing that the end would surely be quick, and hopefully merciful. I knew she was not inclined to toy with her prey. She was a true apex predator, and her carnal impulses were quick and brutal. I tried to shore up whatever courage remained in my heart and made one last mad dash for the edge of the park and the street beyond. I was prepared to run straight into the oncoming traffic if necessary. Anything that might give me half a chance…

At that point I started to feel the shadow of the angel of death darkening my doorstep. I felt her hot breath on my neck. I knew it would soon be over. In a sublime moment just before she brought me down to the ground, I saw two police officers walking side-by-side just across the street and they saw me. I briefly felt an ephemeral twinge of hope, thinking they might come to my rescue. But they just turned away and continued on their path. They obviously saw my peril but, after all, they had only their training, their radios, their service pistols and tactical tasers and pepper spray and Kevlar vests to protect themselves and I’m certain that they instantly knew that all of that would surely not be enough. As I said earlier, self-preservation is a basic human instinct.

And that was when the utterly adorable 20-pound French Bulldog puppy named Margot took me to the ground. I landed on my back in the grass, laughing hysterically as she licked my neck and face. Her breath was sort of funky - I suspect she might have finished off the remains of my tuna salad sandwich after lunch earlier that day - but I didn’t care. She was the cutest and most dominant and self-assertive little puppy ever, and I loved her with all my heart. (She didn’t really blast through a steel fence or destroy a large truck. I tend to exaggerate a bit where Margot is concerned. But trust me, you don't want to mess with her.)

I threw the tennis ball for her until the sun began to set over the Santa Cruz Mountains, but then she got a little sparked up for some reason and really started giving the business to a large pack of hungry timber wolves, so I broke up the fracas before it turned bloody (for them) and we went back home for dinner. Margot likes steak, preferably a New York Strip steak cooked medium-rare. Preferably two or three, actually. Maybe a little steak sauce on the side. Maybe some potatoes au gratin, if it's not too much trouble? Her stubby little tail doesn't really "wag", per se, but it does twitch back and forth uncontrollably around dinner time.

We fell asleep in front of the TV together a few hours later, her snoring softly in my lap.

Best dog ever.

(Just don't mess with her.)

THE END

Dedicated to my friend Trudy, who knows not to mess with Margot.