My Writer's Cramp Pieces

Chasing Metal

We're all addicted to something -- for me, it's chasing cars.

Chasing Metal

         Okay, I gotta admit. I got a bad habit of chasing car. It’s something I’ve gotten in trouble with many times, but still I can’t help chasing the things. They move so deliciously. No tails – I wish they had tails, but one can’t have everything. Their cute little wheels go round and round, and I can’t help wanting to bite one.

         So, now I’ve confessed. My name is Roger, and I’m a car chaser. Is there an AA meeting for that?

         Anyway, so I was doing the usual, chasing those huge metallic monsters, my tongue dangling happily between teeth dripping with slobber, and I was really close. I could almost feel the taste of tire…

         And then the darn thing collided! Not with me – with another one of them. The sound was awful! Bang! Clang! Smash! I slammed on my own brakes -- my back legs. I slid into my tail and my bottom rubbed sparks. I ended up in a tailspin, flipped over onto my belly, and lay stunned on that cold, hard pavement!

         What happened to me was mighty painful, but it was a lot better than what had occurred with the two cars! Grrrr! They were into some metal smashing trauma. Their teeth were gripping each other in silence –- like two dogs who have decided to battle to the death!

         I pulled my tail up between my legs, and backed away. A dogfight to the death is not something anyone wants to stick around for.

         This had never happened – not at least that I had seen. (Although I gotta admit, Charlie over on First Street said he’d seen something similar, but who believed him? He was one of those French Poodles with his fuzz all manicured like he was a heavily pruned tree. He only went out on a leash – no freedom at all. Still, it looked like what he’d been telling me was the truth! These metal dogs could get all riled up and attack each other.

         People started jumping out of the two cars. They were yelling and screaming at each other. I think they were trying to stop the cars from fighting. But when two dogs have that kind of grip on the throat of each other, there’s nothing you can do, short of turning the water on them…)

         I hobbled over to the sidewalk. My paws were kind of sore from slamming on the brakes so fast and then sliding into stop. My rear end was feeling like someone had taken a bite out of it.

         Daffodil, a cute little terrier I kept trying to get friendly with, was curled up next to a stairway. Bow wow! Was she ever a hot number! I went over, real friendly like, and watered my position on the fire hydrant in front of her. She seemed kind of interested. But then she turned her nose up in the air and walked off. Dames! They sure ran hot and cold!

         Meantime, another one of those cars – the kind I never chase – drove up. It’s black and white paintings were as prominent in my eyes as the skunk’s I’d once had the misfortune to meet. "Keep away," the colors seemed to say.

         Black and white cars don’t seem to have any smell propellant, but they are always accompanied by so much noise and whirling lights that no dog in his right mind would dare to get close. The men who got out of this one had mean-looking sticks. I crouched back and made myself invisible.

         A huge truck-like metal beast drove up with flashing lights. He backed into one of the fighting cars. I watched as his metal posts connected and pulled. Must have found the car’s collar. One heave and the two vehicles were separated. I watched to see if the one not being held would growl and move forward, but it must have had an injury. It stayed as still as the first.

         Things were rather placid after that. The people, always interesting to watch, scrambled under and around the two cars. They scratched out marks on white leaves they carried around, and then finally everyone got back into their cars, including the battle mauled ones, and they all took off.

         I thought I’d stick around a bit and see if anymore of the cars would come over and fight each other, but whatever had stirred those two up, seemed to be over.

         I sprayed the fire hydrant again, just to make sure that I’d marked the territory really well for when Daffodil came back. (It’s always polite to leave a business card, you know.)

         I still had some time to mosey around, and I thought I’d try the garbage dump down by Second Street, but I scoped out the Dog Catcher making his rounds. I hid behind a garbage can, and let him pass by. Even the return of Daffodil couldn’t rate a night in that bogyman’s cage. No, siree!

Besides it was almost time for my kid to come home. I hoped he’d saved something from his lunch sack for me. Wagging my tail and giving a short yip of joy at the thought, I put on some speed and hightailed it home.

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