Today, as I was driving home from my hike with the dogs, I saw it in the road ahead. It was big and, if it hadn’t had the distinct markings of a German Shepherd, I might have thought it was a bear. Smack in the middle, he was. A sentry.
As my car approached, he didn’t budge an inch. He owned the road, his eyes said.
So, I did the same thing I did when Stella stands in front of the car. I drove up to him, slowly, not stopping, inching forward gently so he had to move. He came around the side, looking in the car.
That’s when Koda saw him. And she, a different kind of guard dog, protecting her sheep (Columbus and myself), started snarling. He started snarling back. Two dogs, wanting a piece of each other, with a barrier in between them, thank the good Lord.
I took off in the car. He was right next to us, not going to give up the chase.
I gunned my little Imprezza as much as a 4-cylinder engine can take. We sped off down the deserted dirt road with the huge beast in pursuit. Eventually he realized he was no match for a streaking blue car with a white-knuckled driver in the front and a crazy dog in the back, and gave up the chase.
I don’t know where that dog lived, there were no homes around. All I can say is that I’m glad I met him while I was in the car. When I was a child, I had a few run-ins with German Shepherds. And, although I am not particularly afraid of dogs, this one brought back some bad memories.
I hope he was some phantom guard dog, set there to add some excitement to my day, never to be seen again by anyone. Ever.