Itâ€™s amazing how fast you can run when thereâ€™s a fucking rottweiler chasing you. Few domesticated animals can instill such fear in someone as a rottweiler can. Why anyone would ever want to house such a monster is a mystery to me. Theyâ€™re not lovable, theyâ€™re not cute and theyâ€™re not beautiful. They slobber on everything, shit everywhere, and could easily eat the face off a child. Lovely. Sign me up for one. Make that two, actually.
But there I was, running like a mongoose chased by a lion on the dry plains of Namibia. I should probably also mention that the devil dog had only had three good legs, one eye, and a terrible bladder problem. He was spraying everywhere as he ran. His fourth gimp leg wasnâ€™t functionalâ€“it didnâ€™t have a knee joint and was a peg leg dragged along by the three good ones. I always imagined that the other legs had to be resentful of the one bad one. It just coasted along on the energy of the others, not contributing anything, like a child living at home with his parents after college. Yet somehow, by the will of some loving god, he could run. Fast. All I could think about as I ran was how I could first kill the damn thing and make it look like an accident. Run through traffic and hope he gets hit? Feasible, but also likely that Iâ€™d be struck by a car, which has never been on my to-do list. Iâ€™ve never even broken a toe. Call me adventurous.
So I did what any respectable, scared 20-something male would doâ€“I turned around, squared my position, looked around to see if there was anyone watching and I kicked the thing smack in the face. It was a spectacular performance. Any soccer player would have agreed that I was blessed in that moment with perfect techniqueâ€“a divine gift delivered to the steel toe King David of my boot. My foot landed just under the jowls of the beast and raised him head first until he made a flip and landed right on his back. I wish that someone had caught it on video. Iâ€™d be an overnight star on YouTube. Who wouldnâ€™t want to watch an averagely attractive guy kick a three legged, one eyed dog in the face as it urinates all over itself? The correct answer is no one.
For a moment I started to feel sorry for him. He whimpered in a high-pitched whine and panted so heavily that I thought I pushed his ribs halfway into his throat. But then I saw itâ€“still in his mouth, the reason for this whole ridiculousness, now covered in blood. In a moment of self-confidence after my victory, I rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath and reached a hand in there. Wrapped around one of those nasty teeth was a ring. Not just any ringâ€“the ring.