Ducks Sleep in the Water

I embarked early this morning, so early the gate to the trail was locked. I decided to take an alternate route beginning with a steep hill that leads to a posh neighborhood with outstanding views. The view beckoning, and thinking I would retake the hill again, Roxie and I turned around and walked back down. Once at the bottom, we discovered the gate was now open, so we took the trail to the park. It was quiet and peaceful and my heart was warmed with aloha. The trail was returned to me, complete with sightings of deer, the quail flock, and a pair of ducks sound asleep on the creek bank, heads tucked softly under their wings.

I stopped at the park to pick up a doggie bag, noticing a single park maintenance worker collecting the trash from garbage bins. A man, bundled up due to the chill, was reading the Sunday paper at a nearby picnic table. Roxie and I moved towards the grassy area where she loves to run off-leash, and do her business. As I walked through the sunlight dappled through the tree branches, I marveled at the loveliness of the scene. So enjoyable was this private walk, we went all the way down to the dog park that is about one mile away from my home. A red shoulder hawk called overhead, and the quail flock awaited us, the littlest ones scurrying into the brush while the larger ones called out from the tops of the bushes. I cursed to myself for not bringing my camera.

We stopped and watched, as I kept Roxie a quiet and safe distance away from the quail, noticing a male on one side of the trail and a female on the other. Once all of the quail were quietly out of sight, we resumed our walk back towards home. And then came the humans. A couple walked together silently side by side for their morning exercise.  I spotted the first dog owner jogging some distance away with her chihuahua, as I passed back through the park. The man I had seen earlier was still enjoying reading his newspaper on the park bench. I moved toward a crosswalk, noticing a woman walking her Boxer from the opposite direction - not one of my favorite breeds. I decided to take another lap around the park, and by the time I did, she was no longer in eye shot. My evasive technique worked and I was delighted.

I began walking uphill towards home on the trail, relaxed and pleased that I was not frightened even once on this walk. I took a quick look behind me to ensure one last time that the woman and her Boxer were not following me. I like to let Roxie run off-leash a little as we work our way towards home. After one last look over my shoulder for safety before letting her go, I noticed the man on the park bench was now standing up watching me intently as I moved out of sight. I decided that it was just a coincidence, but something was nagging at me not to let Roxie go, so I kept her on leash, keeping a watchful eye around every twist and turn of the trail.

Then it happened. A man being pulled by an an ugly, panting, Pit Bull came directly towards me. I looked at the guy sorrowfully, and muttered something under my breath. I turned around looking for a safe spot to go, and moved off the trail quite a bit, picking up Roxie as I did. Panic set in and I hugged her close to my body praying that nothing bad would happen as the dog moved passed me panting and growling.

"Thank you," the man said quite graciously. I turned my head slightly, enough to see that he was sincere. Then I turned my back to him and waited until he was some distance away before I continued on the trail towards home. I noticed a tattoo on the back of his right calf thinking it was a weird place to have a tat. His gratitude helped me even though I walked home dazed and somewhat heartbroken. It was a good walk spoiled. There was no driving, chipping, or putting, but I think Samuel Langhorne Clemens would have agreed when describing this early Sunday morning walk.