The dog and me

I was in the Heath with MGF S&A earlier today. An idyllic setting. The four adults having coffee on the bench, S&A's little one sleeping in the buggy and my three little angels running around with sandwiches in their hands.

Suddenly, I see a 2-feet tall grey, hairy dog running at full speed toward my kids. I was up on my feet, but was expecting him to run past them. To my surprise he jumped on my little one (who is 20 months old) and snatched the sandwich from her hand, which made her lose her balance and fall flat on her back side. Like a shot I ran to my kids shouting and waving the dog away. Once they were safe I looked for the dog's owner. He was walking nonchalantly up the path, not really noticing what just happened. As you would expect, I had a few kind words to say to the guy. To my surprise, rather than apologise he defended the dog: "he is a mere puppy" (did I say it was 2-feet tall?); "he'd never do anything aggressive" (apart from jump on my little one) and best of all "maybe he was hungry and wanted the food" (to which I replied: "you better well feed it then"). Anyway, as you'd imagine, I was less than pleased.

As the kind man made his way, I turned to MBH with a "did you see that?" expression. Naturally, I expected MBH to congratulate me for my swift and decisive action and share my fury with the dog-owner's reaction. As often happens with MBH, I was a bit surprised with her response (and after more than 15 years, the fact she often surprises me must be a good thing): "Are you crazy? Your reaction scared the kids. It was a lot worse than what the dog, or its owner, did."

Felt a bit alone in the world that moment. I gallantly stand up to save my kids from a rabid dog and MBH sides with the dog. The Mother F****** dog!

PS 595km down. 405km to go.