I have somewhat recovered from the trauma of getting bitten by a dog while hiking a few months ago. The anxiety returns whenever I run in to the woman and her dog on the trail. I always have to move out of her way as she comes stomping up toward me with her angry mutt by her side.

Yesterday, I waited for her to pass by but could not help commenting that she really should be more courteous. It took her a few seconds before she took off her headphones and made me repeat what I was saying. Thoroughly annoyed I asked her, “ Do you think that when you see me coming, you could respectfully hold your dog and wait for me to pass?” She rolled her eyes and told me that since she was the one coming uphill she had the right of way. I reminded her that her dog did actually bite me and that I had since developed a phobia of all dogs that I never had before. I also let her in on the fact that I never reported her even though she was unapologetic from the start. She was clear that she thought I was overreacting and should not be complaining to her.

We angrily walked away from each other. I was in disbelief that somebody could be that rude and insensitive.

I continued to run down the extremely steep and slippery trail when I heard her state that she was right behind me. I jumped out of her way and landed in a soft snow pile that took me down to all fours. I could not believe the audacity of this woman. I looked up at her in passing and loudly told her that I didn’t hate anybody but I hated she and her dog. She stopped and said, “I don’t know why you give me such a hard time when you see me. I don’t know what you want from me.” I told her that if she listened she would hear that my only request was that she stop, hold her dog by the collar and let me pass. She said that she did just give me notice when she was coming from behind me…and forced me to dive into the snow bank.

I looked her directly into her sunglasses and said, “Who are you?” “What type of person would behave like this?” I than came to the realization that she was just like her dog and that there would be no getting through to her. She was one of those wounded, demented people that I was best to stay far away from. It did occur to me that one day, she may be in a position of importance where I might need her help but shrugged that idea off. I told her that we would never come to a place of agreement and demanded that she go away from me. As she angrily continued I contemplated biting her on her bum but decided against it. I have a temper and could easily get into a brawl but I have never sunk my teeth into somebody’s skin, it seemed way to intimate of a gesture. I had to call forth my pranayama breathing again and let my anger go to the wind. Her issues were not my concern.

My oldest son, Brevitt, was a yellow lab in a previous life. He bounds around the house smashing into things, chewing on his shirt and retrieving balls. His dog name is Thumper, dubbed so by my sister Michele.

Thumper has been putting the pressure on us to add to the pack. “Aren’t three of you enough?”, I plead. Wade’s allergies have thankfully prohibited us from having any rodents or furry animals as pets thus far. I never really understood the concept of putting rodents in the children’s rooms. I have nightmare memories from my childhood of finding our Guinea Pigs quite dead, belly up with their tongues hanging to the side of their mouths.

At one point, I had a weak moment and almost bought two beautiful yellow lizards for Axel. They were a special breed that mated for life and could only be sold as a couple. How romantic. Luckily, I had the foresight to wait until after our raft trip in Utah. Traumatized short tailed lizards were in abundance at all the camping spots. Apparently, lizard catching is a favorite sport for all children. Axel caught his lizard and loved and squeezed him all day until he suddenly disappeared. I realized that Tucker and all the other toddlers were missing as well and  went to check on them. I found the captivated crew crouched around a bucket. Axel looked up at  me with his big mischievous smile and I quickened my pace. They were conducting a science experiment with the poor lizard pinned down on it’s back at the bottom of the bucket. I got to the lizard just as his last exhaled bubble popped  to the surface. Mesmerized they were observing the bubbles escaping from the drowning lizard. I considered giving it mouth to mouth resuscitation but luckily avoided that comedic situation when it came back to life and groggily skittered away. I was appalled. Axel knew that he was drowning the poor thing but the result of his experiment was far more intriguing to him.

We came to the conclusion that a dog was a much safer bet. Something big enough to withstand the tortures of three little boys. I decided to start the process of finding a hypoallergenic, one year old, superhero like Lassie. The Gods clearly do not think I should get a dog. I got bitten on the bum by an insecure mutt on a hike and the owner had absolutely no remorse. Next, we took my sisters unruly dog for a walk down Main Street, in Aspen, and he pooped for the entire five minutes we had him. The boys and I went into absolute panic as the pedestrians stared at us making sure we took care of the mess. We did not have those un-environmental doggy bags on us and had to find a tossed cup to clean up.

We visited a dog kennel and reacquainted ourselves with Cali. When I first met her I heard the angels singing. She was perfect for us and I would have a fellow female in the house. The singing came to a screeching halt when we were told that she gets car sick. Not good for a travelling family on the move. Out of nowhere ran up one year old Tucker, a beautiful yellow lab with abounding energy. The boys exclaimed that he looked just like the dog from the movie Marley and Me. My point exactly! In addition, it would be way too confusing to have two Tucker’s in the house. I would being telling my Toddler to sit while I told my dog to eat his breakfast.

Next visit was at the animal shelter. The only dog we connected with was Bomber. Before we took him for a walk the shelter asked us to sign a waver so that we couldn’t sue them. Reluctantly, we went outside and again total chaos ensued. Bomber was wild and out of control. We tried to calm him as he bit at his leash trying to free himself but to no avail. He than proceeded to accidentally bite my hand. I made the boys keep checking on me to make sure I didn’t start frothing at the mouth with rabies.They kept shaking their heads while  smiling reassuring me that all the dogs had already had their rabies shots. As we passed the husky dogs who were boarded outside, it was clear that Bomber was hated amongst his peers. The Huskies leaped up the wall of their captive space baring fangs and ready to kill. I hustled the kids along trying to steer Bomber away from this pack who were ready to jump over the small fence that guarded them from us. We returned to the shelter bloody and with our hearts racing. The Shelter looked at us as if we were crazy and told us that we needed to practice managing dogs more. Maybe these dog people should point their antennas  just a little bit more toward people and tune in! The search continues and I can’t tell you how excited I am to have more stories to report about later. Let’s just hope I survive this quest.

India, my niece, and Loki, the hat grabber and glove chewer.