THE DOG WALKER, JOGGERS, AND PARANOIA

                               

    THE DOG WALKER, JOGGERS, AND PARANOIA

So, I’m walking my dog this morning here in southeastern Michigan. It’s a great day for a walk, crisp and sunny, windless. We’re starting out as we always do, up our block to Ridge Road. As we reach Ridge, a jogger lopes past in the street.

He’s dressed in standard jogger tights inspired by the condom, and a matching red jersey. He’s wearing sunglasses, and a stocking cap. As always for years now, he passes without a wave, nod or smile, intent on the demands of his cardio-vascular drill.

Am I petty to resent this young man again this morning for not acknowledging me, someone he’s seen dozens of times on this street? Very well, then, I’m petty. But it’s a great morning, and my dog and I continue on our own, thoroughly un-cardio-vascular, un-achievement-oriented routine.

We head east, and now start down Oxford Boulevard. The big yards here have all been tidied up for their long winter’s nap. Most of the houses are decorated, some professionally. My dog and I follow a particular path, on the left sidewalk. That’s because Emma lives on the other side, and often camps out under “her” tree. She’s a beautiful husky or malemute, I never know the difference. She has ice-blue eyes that seem to frighten my dog, so we always take the opposite sidewalk.

Now, coming toward us is another jogger. He's skinny, with a lunging stride that's less than graceful. In the short interval before he reaches us, I imagine his lack of jogging rhythm leading to disaster. Shouldn’t he be in the street? No matter, he prefers the sidewalk. I imagine him reaching us, tripping or stumbling, and landing on my dog.

He breaks her back. He struggles up and is now running in place to prevent his heart rate from dropping. He shrugs, and jogs off. By this point he is well past me and my dog, but the imagined disaster continues. It now involves violence visited on the callous jogger; then a courtroom exchange in which a judge that hates dogs finds against me. Et cetera.

As you see, this material is well suited to The Couch. I resent being ignored by the first jogger, and as a consequence have turned the second one into a sociopath, a co-conspirator with jogger one. But I know how to deal with this problem: it’s my dog’s fault. If she hadn't been there, this tragedy would never have occurred. But I forgive her, and get back to enjoying the morning..

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