We had another incident on the walk last night. This time, it was not Eddie. This time, it was the noisy Treeing Walker Coonhound who lives most of his life trapped in a second floor apartment with a giant hairy huskie, baying out the window whenever anyone walks past.
Boscoe and I were walking down the avenue past that house when the door opened and a man came out with the huskie on a long leash. The hound, who was not tethered, dashed out from behind him and headed straight for Boscoe.
It was just as terrible as the Eddie incident; maybe more so. Boscoe fell and couldn't get up--the street was too slippery, Boscoe's back legs too weak. The hound darted around him, in and out, baying that blood-lust bay. The man was trying to haul the huskie back into the house and was hollering at the hound, who was paying him absolutely no attention. I kept pushing the hound away and trying to help Boscoe up, but his legs kept sliding.
How long did all this last? Hard to say--less than a minute, I am sure, but a very noisy and surreal minute, with the baying and the shouting and the sliding and the barking and me yelling, "Get away! Get away!"
At one point, the man let go of the huskie to grab the hound (he missed), and as the huskie approached I remember thinking, This is it. The huskie is going to kill my dog. But the huskie was gentle, and wanted only to see what was going on.
The man finally got both dogs in the house, and I got Boscoe to his feet, and poor Boscoe took off at a dead run toward our house. The man came back out to apologize. "I'm just the dog-sitter," he said. "I didn't know he'd do that. I'm so sorry, ma'am."
By then I was flying down the sidewalk behind Boscoe, who was running like he hasn't run in years.
No bites landed, as far as I can tell. He was shaken up, and this morning he is very subdued and only ate half his breakfast. I think he is not injured, just very tired. I was angry last night--furious, incensed. But this morning I am just tired and subdued too.