This story was one I never would have anticipated writing. Today had started out so normal, and so simply, I was fairly certain there was nothing out of the ordinary that would make today note worthy. But of course, that is when the strangest shit happens.
Tonight's saga starts off in center city Grape Town. (I most certainly do not actually work in a place called Grape Town, but from here forward, my little land of strange that I work in will be known as such). Scruffy Mutt and I, for very different reasons, were feeling awfully defeated. And cold. I am atrocious at dressing appropriately for weather conditions, and as a consequence, on occasion am just as bad about appropriately dressing my dog for the overly reliable and mild weather conditions of New Jersey. Really, Scruffy Mutt should keep better track of her coat and things but I probably should have made sure she brought it with her ;-).
After discussing this with Scruffy Mutt we decide the smartest idea is to go to the Dollar store and find the cheapest most functional forms of winter clothing that were available. Being in this city for a whole three minutes so far, and I was not disappointed to be welcomed with the regular ignorance and poor grammar that is waiting at every corner. Before we could get all feet and paws through the door of the store, a cashier ninja dives over the cash register, doing a near front flip mid air and landed about a half inch from my face. (I had to give him a 10 for the perfect landing though, it stuck well and he had great form). "What dat dawg in here for?" His troll like co-worker took the more quiet role and stood with a broom in hand blocking our way into the store.
I attempt to enlighten my stealthy new friend of the laws that allow Scruffy Mutt to enter public establishments. Fifteen minutes later, a frustrating apparent language barrier, and a moderately educated store manager clears the confusion. The Troll clears our path and allows us to enter without charging us the bridge toll I half expected him to demand upon passing by. All this work for dollar store winter garb almost seemed just entirely too complicated. I locate another employee who speaks correct English, and had no broom like stick in hand, and no urges to display un-needed ninja skills to protect the innocent Bargain Shoppers of Grape Town. After assessing to ensure all this was true, I asked for assistance in locating the winter clothing for children. Relatively useful employee leads me across the store to a rack of clothing and then vanishes without a word. I suppose I forgot to screen them for magician skills before asking for assistance. Now I know better. Houdini had been kind enough to escort me right up to.... a rack of scrubs. All sorts in every color I could hope for. But not one thing on this rack resembled winter clothing for people, hobbits or otherwise in any size shape or color. Twenty minutes later, and an experience not too different from hiking through the safari I found a shelf of misfit clothing, winter clothing at that. I rifle through this tragic pile and find a bright orange sweatshirt that was the closest thing to child-like that I could find. I settle on it and we leave. She was not impressed with her new clothing.....
(Caption for fellow blinker followers: Pictured here is Scruffy Mutt, in harness. She is sitting in front of a black bench against a brick wall. Her leash is extended off to the left. She is sitting with her ears forward and her eyes squinted shut, possibly in shame, or in overall silliness. She is wearing a bright orange zip up sweatshirt. The zipper runs along her stomach. The hood is bunched up behind her harness against the back of her head. The sleeves of the hoodie are very long and despite the attempt to roll them up they hang down far, one sleeve completely covering her left paw and the right one just the toes of her paw stick out, while the hoodie's extra material is bunched up near her elbow. The jacket hangs down and covers her enter body. The harness is on over the hoodie)
The next leg of our journey to work is short and easy. We just jump on the bus to Atlantic City, and get off ten minutes later. (At this point the not as easy four mile trek begins). This, for once, was the only portion of this endeavor that was relatively remedial. However, as you can by now imagine, navigating in our newest and greatest warm weather clothing was mildly challenging. We get off the bus, and Scruffy Mutt looks around. Momentarily she forgets that we are trying to fix the sleeves of her latest fashion and goes to run over to make a new friend with a yapping dog across the street. I correct her and attempt to reposition her to again fix her clothes. A bird squawks and must have waved at her or said something offensive. She lunges again, and trips over her jacket. I trip as I had been trying to remove her harness. We both are falling slow motion, with arms, legs, paws back pack, extra long jacket sleeves and half way detached harness flailing and flying everywhere. We both hit the ground with a thud. Backpack comes crashing down and lands firmly at the top of the hill. Scruffy Mutt and I didn't have so much luck and flailed bounced and rolled down a large hill, into a small ditch surrounded by rocks and squirrels. Sufficiently filthy, mangled and disoriented we get ourselves together for the walk of shame up the hill, where the back pack sits, almost as if gloating that out of all parties involved, only the inanimate object was successful in maintaining coordination.
Composure regained, laughter controlled, all extremities of human and canine variety assessed for functionality, all items re-gathered, and Scruffy Mutt in harness only, we attempt our walk to work. Even with a coffee stop this walk seemed as if it was going to regain the sense of normalcy my day had started out with. But three miles into it, I realized that, again, I was very wrong. Scruffy Mutt stiffens and I see something move out of the side of my eye. I turn, and see a black large mass speeding towards us. On grass. Immediately reassured this was not a deranged driver I began to analyze the possibilities.
1; Super large dog
2: Dementor (sorry not so harry potter fans...)
3: Asteroid (wasn't sure if they'd be black or on fire but it was as good of a guess as any)
4: Running boulder. (this is when I knew that I was too far off to recover, and that my blinker-ness has found a whole new level)
A minute later this question resolved itself, sort of. It stopped at a fence, let out the loudest moan, groan sort of noise I have ever heard. It followed me and Scruffy Mutt along the fence line for a minute. I stopped, letting her take a look. Black Blob moaned. Scruffy Mutt growled. This dialogue ensued for awhile. I attempted to walk away. Black Blob followed. After allowing Scruffy Mutt and Black blob to discuss this, we were able to move on to get to work on time. Which was now, not going to happen. Imagine explaining to your coworker your five minutes late for your shift because your dog had to talk to a black blob? Yeah, that was a challenge. (Note. after conferring with sighted sources it turns out that this black blob is actually in fact a cow). My dog had a conversation with a cow on the way to work today. NBD just your normal Sunday commute?
(Blinkers, the above photos are of the conversation with the cow. The first one they are staring at each other through the wire fence and in the second one the cow must have offended her. Scruffy Mutt is looking off to the left and the cow is starting straight ahead at us....)
Since this moment my night has only gotten stranger, with random communication from estranged humans, bizarre work calls and so much more.
What is the moral of today's lesson, kids?. Any day can start out ordinary, and find a way to end up as being far from it.
Scruffy Mutt and I conquered a troll, ninja, magician, giant hill(ok so maybe the hill concurred us but whatever), frigid temperatures, and a Black Blob / cow. I'm curious as to what our adventures home will look like with this track record....