Stories: Half a Dog
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| My companion and I were late getting off to church services one Sunday morning. We had to get clear across town in Toulon, at the time the apartment was in the lower reaches of rue d'écluse. A whole two buildings on the road. Anyways, we jump on our bikes and take off full speed, my companion and I not looking back. As we start down the first street, a dog comes running out in front of me and cuts me off. I slam on my back brakes but the dog got caught up in my front tire, bringing my bike to a sudden halt. As I'm flying over the handle bars, I just catch a glimpse of my comp rounding the next corner. I landed on my arm, which caught the worst though my clothing suffered as well. After standing up, the dog's owner comes running over to see if she can help this poor bleeding cyclist. She yells at her dog, and tells me she won't let me go until she has cleansed my wound. Being a blue, my first town, I had no way of telling her that I really couldn't leave my comp and that I needed to get to church. I was bleeding pretty bad so she escorted me down an alley to her front room where she kicked the dog, with more yelling. We had left my bike where it was, so when my comp noticed that I was not following, he could track me down. And I'm sure that when he could hear my screams after she poured rubbing alcohol on the wound from my wrist to the elbow, (you know I couldn't help it) he started yelling for me, his first blue - lost. When he found me, he berated me in English and excused us in French so we could get to church. We did give her a Book of Mormon. |
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