Walk

When I was driving home yesterday I wanted to walk in the door with a plan. I have to hit the door with a plain because the park requires a bit of time massaging.

My options as I drove along were:

1. Go to park now.
2. Do nothing and take a short walk later
3. Go play fetch soon.
4. Go to the post office.

If I’m going to the park I have to hit the door running. I decided we were not going to the park. It was Monday, we don’t usually “do” the park on Mondays. That helps me narrow down our options. So. There was a walk in my future. I had scored tennis balls and I was looking forward to popping open the pink ones and going to the baseball field. It was shaping up to be a plan.

I also had bills. Bills that wanted to be paid. Dogger and I didn’t need to play fetch, we could go to the post office... True, it requires a trip down Moderately Mentally Ill and Clearly off Their Meds Street, but Dogger allows me to cut through that mess like a hot knife through butter or like a very big dog through a crowd people having bitter arguments with dumpsters.

Dogger has decided she is afraid of New Bern Avenue, joining clouds, leaves, over head wires, jet trails and cell towers to her list of buzz kills. She will do Edenton though. And I thought about it, but after taking the time to actually pay the bills, I didn’t think I would have the light to make the round trip. Because even with gentrification, I’m not stupid.

Several years ago, pre-gentrification, Dogger and I were coming back from our walk and we had gone down Edenton, at that time it was really Crazed Junkie Street. I had to plan ahead as to which sections of which blocks I felt comfortable being on and which sections of which blocks I needed to avoid at all costs and head back to New Bern Ave., where I felt safer.

Anyway, on that day Dogger and I were almost home and on a section of a block I felt very comfortable on and this huge car came screeching into the parking lot we were crossing. The car came to a stop and the door opened and a voice said What the hell are you doing here? Are you stupid!? and I’m thinking. !@#$, why haven’t I taught Dogger the command for attack? She sits all right and can lay down, what was I thinking wasting my time on manners! Take down! Tear out throat! Eat his heart! or even the classic, kill And the voice repeated Girl, do you know who I am?. And I’m thinking "Death drives a seventy-four caddy?". In reality it was the drug dealers father and he threatened me with a kidnaping if he saw me on Edenton again. He was willing to commit a felony for my safety - Which I know totally came from the heart - I would have made sure he served serious time for it, but he would have done it out of concern for me.

As I drove into my driveway another option presented itself : Mow the Lawn.