Whenever I don't have class, I take Sophie for a walk. Sometimes, I'll take my Water Jug walk and refill my jug at the Rite-Aid down the street. When I don't need water, I'll take the Bonneville Shoreline Trail walk, which is (according to my iPhone iMapMyWalk app) 1.88 miles round trip.
I always take Sophie with me, because she gets wild when she's cooped up inside for too long. She'll run laps from the living room to the bedroom to the office to the kitchen to the living room and so on. But now, since we went for a walk, she's passed out on the floor. She heats up really quickly when it's warm out, so she gets tired faster, so she passes out for longer, which gives me more of a break.
The Bonneville Shoreline Trail is a paved, fairly wide trail that caters to runners, walkers (or waddlers, like myself), and bicyclists. 99% of the people I've encountered on this trail follow the rules: stay to the right, make noise when passing, and yield to those going slower than yourself. In fact, there is a sign at the start of the trail that states bicyclists will yield to runners and walkers, and runners will yield to walkers. Walkers don't have to yield to ANYONE! Fuckin' A right.
Sophie has no walking etiquette. Until she tires out, she'll be trying to zig-zag back and forth across the path, sniff this and that, chase birds and small creatures, and be a menace in general. I tie her leash around my waist, which makes it shorter and also makes it easier for me to pull her back from the other side of the path. I don't let her just run crazy because I know a bicyclist approaching from the rear could run her over or get hurt trying to avoid her, and I'd feel really bad if I caused some kind of incident. The most Sophie does is tread in the middle of the path, which leaves room on the other side for people to get around, although if I see someone coming, I'll pull her closer to me.
So the moral is: my dog acts like a jackass and I compensate by reigning her in.
I listen to the iPod function on my iPhone when I walk because otherwise I would get really bored. Depending on what I'm listening to, I can't always hear when the bikes approach. I don't crank it up, but most of the bikes are pretty quiet. Sophie hears them before I do and will turn to look, which is my cue to pull her out of the bike's trajectory.
Today, I'm waddling up the path, and Sophie is miraculously staying much closer to me than she normally does. She hears a bike and turns to look at it, and I pull her close to me to get out of their way. Two bicyclists go zipping past me, and the second one turns back and yells something at me.
Now, I'm listening to my iPod. I don't hear him. But I'm pretty sure he said something nasty, because I saw the annoyed look on his face.
I considered taking out my ear buds, yelling, "WHAT?!" and seeing if he'd stop and repeat whatever nasty thing he said. He probably wouldn't have. So Nasty Biker Man and his companion disappear up the path, and I'm left wondering what it is he said. I assume it was something about Sophie, even though she wasn't in their way. She takes up less room on the path than if I was walking with another person. When she's hot and panting, it looks like she's smiling, and she wears a cute pink backpack.
What kind of heartless jerk could get mad at an adorable smiling backpack-wearing dog and her 7-months-pregnant waddling owner? Especially when they weren't in his stupid way. Oh yeah, and considering that even if they WERE in his stupid way, he has to yield to them. The way I look at it, I do those fuckface bicyclists a favor by staying out of their way, because technically I could frolic back and forth across the path or walk right in the middle and take up the whole thing, AND THEY COULDN'T DO A FUCKING THING.
I'd say fuck bicyclists but most of them are nice, so I won't. But I will say, fuck Nasty Biker Man. If I see him again and recognize him in time, I'll throw a stick into his spokes.
