In Which I Rescue A Fierce Dog and Earn Pie

There I was, headed to work pedaling south along Eastern Avenue NE in Cedar Rapids, when I encountered the fierce dog.

There is a bulldog that lives along that street, and I see him or her fairly often. Usually, when the dog is out, its owner is too. I’ve been chased and barked at a few times by this animal.

I’m not a dog person at the best of times, and I’m less so when I’m on my bicycle. Dogs can be more than an annoyance to a biker—they can be a real hazard.

But, to be fair, I’ve never been in fear of this particular dog. Despite it’s tendency to bark, it’s not really ever been aggressive. And while it has pursued me, it’s always kept a bit of distance, too. The pursuit has always felt more pro forma than serious.

Anyway, back to this morning. I was flying along, trying to get to campus quickly—I’m usually in a hurry on Tuesday or Thursday mornings, due to an 8 a.m. class. I crossed 32th Street and was headed up the hill, when I saw the dog running in a church yard near the top of the hill. Someone had tossed out the remains of a microwave noddle dish, and the dog headed into the street to investigate. It was too interested in Ramen to notice me, so I flew by, but as I passed, I thought, “that dog could get hit by a car.”

And I knew where it lived. It had barked at me many times. So, a bit reluctantly, I turned back. As I neared the dog, it looked up at me and barked. I spoke to it, in what I hoped was a calm, I’m not scared of you but also no threat, voice. I slowed, and the dog followed me. I took it to the house on the corner where it lives, and could see its owner through the kitchen window. I yelled, he looked up, and I pointed down at the dog. He came out, yelled a name, and the dog took off towards him.

I don’t know what the owner thought. He had a yelling biker in his driveway pointing at his dog—also, then, in his driveway. Maybe he thought I was being a sensitive ass, complaining when a dog barks at me.

Well, no. Again, I’m not a dog person, but as long as a dog doesn’t actually attack me, I will tolerate it. And I don’t mind that dogs bark—it’s just what they do.

So anyway, despite my hurry, I rescued fierce dog. Later today, when I was on my way home, my wife texted me that she was eating dinner at my daughter’s house. I called, and my daughter invited me too. There was very nice spicy soup with homemade bread, followed by apple pie.

Did I deserve the pie? You bet. I rescued a dog.