Emily, 2006
Last night I tucked the girls into bed and prepared to go on a three mile run. As usual, Donald put a leash on our yellow Labrador, Emily, so that she could accompany me.
"Protect my wife," he told her as I stepped out into the cold evening air.
Now, I will admit that I am not a 'dog person'. We have two that I could easily live without. However, when I head out on a night time run I am glad that we have them. They give me a certain sense of security. So Emily and I set off while Donald stayed home to enjoy a suspenseful episode of '24'.
Just as I was finishing up the first mile I spotted a man up ahead leaving a residence. He noticed me approaching with Emily and took a step back to allow us to go by. As we passed he politely nodded and said 'hello'.
Big mistake.
My 'guard dog' was ready to attack. She shot back with a growl, twisting the leash around my knees and landing me on my derriere.
"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" the man asked.
"Yes," I lied, as my side began to throb.
"I didn't mean to scare your dog," he said.
"Well, that's why I bring her," I replied and continued on my way.
My first reaction was to be angry with Emily; she shouldn't start growling at innocent people. But as I thought it through I realized how grateful I was to her. She was ready to protect me and fight for me.
When we arrived back at home {2 miles later}, I relayed the events of my run to Donald. He proudly called Emily over, gave her a good scratch behind the ear, and thanked her for bringing his wife back safely.
And then I rewarded her with a piece of turkey from the refrigerator.
