The Chase

I had grown complacent. There had been a time (decades ago) when a certain farm dawg would give earnest chase as I cycled by. I knew the specific farm well and would begin accelerating a coupla hundred yards before I reached the (ever) open gate. I’d get me up a good head o’ steam and pedal past the hound on the fly. That was then. The dog was old and I was (relatively) young.

But I’d grown complacent...older...grayer...weaker...slower. Lots slower.

I cycled quite a bit this summer. Logged close to a thousand miles on two wheels. Covered lottsa ground, passed a whole lotta farms. Sure, there were dogs. They barked a lot. Some growled a bit. But this is the age of passive entertainment, dontcha know. None gave chase.

I found a new road to explore last week. An east-west leg of diverse charms. I traipsed down and back a few times and rather enjoyed myself.

This day was different. And I didn’t even see it coming. The farmhouse was secluded, tucked behind tall pines. A long stretch of blacktop its only tether to the world. I dreamily coasted past the driveway entrance. It was only then that I saw the jet black cruise missile. I assume (s)he began its sprint when I came within its distant peripheral field of vision. By the time I reached the driveway entrance, this protector of hearth and home was racing towards me at Mach 2, afterburners fully engaged. I kinda hoped against hope that my nemesis would screech to a halt curbside. Mission accomplished.

Nope.

Oh, no, no, there was no stopping this passionate, hellbent heart.
(S)he paused reflexively at junction of driveway and road then, seemingly with a shrug, muttered “Oh, what the Hell” and took off after me. I was on my feet, stompin’ on the pedals with all I had, all I could muster, all I could pray for. (S)he matched me lope for stroke. Teeth glistening “Crest-white” millimeters from bare ankles. I looked at him/her, he/she stared unblinkingly right back at me. Fear met bad intent and both hung in precarious balance for what seemed long enough to cause cardiac arrest. Then, as unpredictably as it had all begun, the chase was over.

The thing is...the road dead-ended ‘bout a quarter mile farther on. I had to turn around and pedal back the way I came. I spun the bike around, exhausted. Genuinely concerned. I stomped on those pedals. I gasped and wheezed. I prayed to the gods of velocity for undeserved (though much needed) blessings. Smoke poured from my ears. And, as I approached the gates of Hades, I saw the beast resting on the front steps of its home. I swear, (s)he smiled.

I like that dog. We’ll meet again, I’m sure. But, next time, I’ll be ready.

Chase on!

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