Thursday, November 15, 2007

The Runaway- A Non-Political Post

So, my dog likes to run away when he happens to get loose outside. This is fine for one who lives in, say, the country. But I don't. I live in the city. With lots of busy streets and cars and buses and taxis and other dangerous obstacles. With this in mind, I'd like to write a play:

Scene: Urban area. A woman has just finished walking her dogs. She is in the courtyard of her building, fumbling her keys and has taken the leashes off of her two medium-sized dogs. She opens the door to her building and the dogs shuffle inside.

But wait. Only one of the dogs shuffles inside, the obedient white poodle-terrier mix. The woman turns around only to see the other dog's brown tail disappear down the stairs leading to the city sidewalk.

Woman: "TYLER*! Get BACK here!"

The woman runs toward the brown dog, a corgi-spaniel mix who, despite having disproportionately short legs, runs incredibly fast. Alas, Tyler the dog has disappeared. Remembering that the poodle-terrier mix, Max, is still unleashed (and now roaming around the courtyard), the woman instantaneously swoops Max under her left arm and bolts after Tyler.

Sprinting, she reaches the end of the courtyard and looks to her left. No sign of Tyler. She looks to her right and sees Tyler's tiny brown legs scurrying down the sidewalk a half a block away. The woman runs after him while still carrying Max, who has definitely gotten fatter over the past few months.


Tyler reaches the end of the block and, thankfully, instead of trying to cross the somewhat busy street, makes a right turn down the sidewalk. When the woman reaches the corner she sees a man on his way to work, talking on his cell phone, reach down and pet Tyler, who has stopped to say hello.

Woman: "H-HELP!"

The man keeps on walking toward the train, not wanting to be late for work. Tyler looks back at the woman, smiles, and resumes running.


Other commuters are beginning to stare.** (Especially due to her "stop" and "sit" made-up combo word "stit" that came out in anger and panic.) Surely they are wondering who this crazy dog lady is and why this poor mutt is running away from her.

Tyler stops running. He looks back at the woman.

Woman: "Good boy, Tyler! That's a good boy. Come here."

The woman gets within 3 feet of Tyler and he takes off running again, clearly thinking this is some sort of game.

Because it's. so. fun.

Tyler then makes a left turn and crosses the street, nearly missing being hit by a car. He runs to the end of the block and looks back at the woman again. Wagging his tail, he sprints away. The woman, who can no longer feel her left arm that is carrying the other dog, continues chasing him.

At the end of the street, a group of 4 men are doing road construction and the dog is heading straight for them.

Woman: "HELP! Please! Help!

The men look at her, look at the dog running toward them, and look back at the woman. Shrugging, they drop their tools and wait for Tyler to come to them. They surround him and Tyler rolls over onto his back and plays dead.

The woman thanks the men. They stare at her while she swoops the brown dog under right arm and carries her two dogs away.

Walking the 3 city blocks back home, with the two dogs under her arms, the woman walks past a woman on her way to work who says this:

Other woman: "You should put them on leashes."

Yes. Thanks. So fucking helpful.

* The yuppy-child name "Tyler" was predetermined at the animal shelter where "Tyler" probably ran away to prior to my adoption of him.

** Blog to come: Why is it such a rare occassion for city dwellers to help a citizen in need?

This story brings my running tally to: Dogs 0, Cats 3.

A cat would be too lazy to run away like that just for the sport of it.

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