Just realized I have not informed offspring of upcoming cultural training that begins tomorrow. Had the whole weekend to do it but it totally slipped my mind. Hmmm. Guess there is a reason procrastination is directly proportionate to one’s desire to avoid conflict.
On a happier note, canine companion and I returned unscathed from another outing on foot. Not that we haven’t been living life on the edge. Last night had a scary encounter with 2 large dogs when my husband spied that rare thing called grass and let our dog hop onto the 4×4 space to let her feel the ground between her paws. Turns out another dog had the same idea. It was black so blended in perfectly with the night. How we missed it in such a small space, I can only blame the wine we had at dinner.
Of course, the black dog, upon seeing another black dog nosing in on its little territory, immediately sounded off an alarm. To which another dog – brown – responded. My husband, newly arrived to Istanbul and the whole stray-dogs-are-not-potential-playdates theme, just stood there. Not until the brown dog started to chew on our dog’s leg like it was a Colonel Sanders drumstick did he – or I for that matter – move. Again, blame the wine. Delayed reaction and all that.
Luckily, our dog is unhurt. For once, I am thankful for the mass of fur on her legs which is a major pain to brush.
So, this morning, fresh-eyed and bushy-tailed, a neighbor and I set off to take her Labradoodle and our BRT for a nice stroll along the Bosporus. We walk down a shop-lined street (home to the beloved Chocolate Store with Valet Parking) and turn right to head down to Bebek where we can walk along the Bosporus to our heart’s content.
(I purposely downplay the mountain we have to scale to get back to our apartment building, although my neighbor does appear to eye the 75-degree-angled descent with a bit of alarm…of course, it could be the euphoria from the adrenalin rush of our gravity-aided sprint down the hill that is making her eyes so wide.)
We aren’t on flat ground for long before they come, 3 dogs and more approaching in the distance. My neighbor immediately scoops up her miniature Labradoodle in her arms. Easy enough for her as her Labradoodle is very small (either the Toy Poodle’s genes were incredibly dominant or the Labrador must have been one of the teensiest ones in creation; very very cute, though and looking like a miniature of our dog so they are quite the matched pair).
While I would love to scoop our 5’4″ 52.5 kg BRT into my arms, that just ain’t gonna happen. (Even if I could gather the strength to swing her over my shoulders, her arms and legs would dangle to the ground from my 5’3.5″ frame, so we both would be sitting ducks.)
We eye the traffic and quickly choose to dart through the oncoming traffic vs. meet the dog pack head on. Normally, our dog would be a bit wary of me pulling her across a busy street so quickly – can’t imagine why she doesn’t trust me 100% – but, apparently after our street dog encounter last night, her trust in us to protect her from other dogs is at an even lower level. She quickly follows me. The street dogs, I am happy to say, do not.
The rest of the walk is uneventful and beautiful. We can walk for miles along the seaside. Anticipating the return walk uphill, however, we do not. We return home safe and sound.
I definitely need to find a bigger stick, though.
And maybe some pepper spray…
Or a taser…