I’m not proud to say, I lost my sh*t.
Well, technically, it was Reese’s sh*t, and it was tossed not lost.
The incident, though short-lived, and (thankfully) without consequence, still weighs heavily on my mind.
Henry, Reese and I were on our way back from a lovely walk. The sun, combined with a gentle breeze made it the perfect temperature. The dogs, noses to the ground, were enjoying the smells of spring while I was taking in the view of the lake. It is a beautiful walk, and although the road is not wide and there aren’t sidewalks, driver’s are, for the most part, respectful of pedestrians. Most will slow down and even move over to give extra space. Bikers, who don’t need to give the extra space will slow down to quiet the sound of their exhausts. We’ve had groups of bikers pass us on the road many times and neither dog has reacted in the slightest.
The enjoyable moment was soon shattered by a raucous, high pitched scream. I looked up in time to see the flashy red car speeding toward us. My guess is thirty kilometers over the posted speed limit of forty kilometers. Throwing the poop bag at the car was a knee jerk reaction.
I swallowed my rapidly beating heart back down from my throat to my chest and comforted Henry and Reese, who had both found refuge in the bushes alongside the road. Once recovered, I noticed a neighbour standing at the end of his drive shaking his head in disbelief at the crazy young driver – not me (I’m sure).
‘What was that’? He asked – referring to the banshee on wheels.
I had just responded that I had no idea when we heard a second, shorter scream followed by a third before she disappeared out of range.
‘Maybe she won the lottery’ I suggested. ‘Good for her.’
Again, he shook his head, collected his newspaper and made his way up his drive without any mention of my reprisal.
Henry, Reese and I continued walking, and as we headed home, I replayed the incident over again in my mind. Thankfully, at the time of the incident, the bag only contained a Reesie poop. Had there been a hefty Henry nugget, it might have connected with its intended target instead of fluttering to the ground like a para pooper.
As I let go of the bag, everything began to move in slow motion.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOO, what did I just doooooooo(do)?
I remember looking directly through the open passenger window as I launched that torpoodo. Perhaps, with a bit more weight, the bag would have landed square (and, a bit squishy) in the lap of the driver. Did I mention she was wearing shorts? Apparently, your attention to detail becomes heightened when your adrenalin is pumping!
That would have given her something to scream about – or shut her up!
Only two days before, I was speaking with another neighbour about speeding, careless drivers on this road. I learned that her little Jack Russel had been hit by a car. The driver had not been paying attention, texting perhaps, and came off the road. The little dog who had been sitting off to the side was struck and killed.
Carelessness kills and incidents like the above mentioned can be easily avoided.
I was angry. I’m only human – not perfect by any means. I’d love to know I’m not the only one. What is your ‘less than perfect’ moment?