Poochie
I ride my bike so often that sooner or later it's inevitable that I'll be chased by a dog. People around here are bad about leashing their dogs if they're outside with them. The other day I was riding my bike down a side street and a small white dog broke away from its nightgowned and slippered owner to chase me.
"Poochie," the owner said, and started walking.
"Poochie." Walking faster. I looked back and the dog was sprinting. It was almost to my back tire so I sped up.
"POOCHIE!" The owner ran after us. I biked past a 'dead end' sign off the road and down a hill at a fast pace but the dog kept following.
"POOCHIE! POOCHIE!!" Her voice suddenly became low and indignant. After another series of hills, the dog went back to its owner.
I felt kind of bad for her, but it was tough not to laugh at her gruff female voice yelling commands at "Poochie."
"Poochie," the owner said, and started walking.
"Poochie." Walking faster. I looked back and the dog was sprinting. It was almost to my back tire so I sped up.
"POOCHIE!" The owner ran after us. I biked past a 'dead end' sign off the road and down a hill at a fast pace but the dog kept following.
"POOCHIE! POOCHIE!!" Her voice suddenly became low and indignant. After another series of hills, the dog went back to its owner.
I felt kind of bad for her, but it was tough not to laugh at her gruff female voice yelling commands at "Poochie."