The best possible use of an Evidence textbook. Ever.

I post this because (although terrifying at the time) it is truly funny in retrospect. And my friends love this story who have heard it in person. I hope it translates well to written form, let me know.

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Last Friday I drove to Tampa to visit one of my loveliest friends at law school, her fiance, and my roommate (who was in Tampa "for business"). Before leaving home, my friend warned me that she had a dog at home, who was very calm, so that I could prepare myself. I have been able to deal with a few dogs in the past, despite the general petrifying effect they have on me, so I thought I was going to be able to adjust well to this particular canine.

This did not happen.

First, this is a large dog. Like, a golden retriever/chow/horse mix. (Strike one.) It also has a strong desire to smell me repeatedly (Strike two.) It could also rip my arm off if necessary, like a police dog. My friend insisted that since he had not ripped anyone's arm off in the past that I was obviously safe from this danger. But I am no fool and clearly would not fall for that. I knew I was in danger of losing a limb (at best), or my life (at worst). (Strike three.) At the point I was standing stock still in her living room with tears streaming down my face, we all agreed it was best for the unmentionable to remain in another room from that point on. (Home run for me.) [End baseball analogy]

The previous paragraph is background so that you can appreciate this next part:

Friday evening I was getting ready to go to dinner with the friend's fiance (while the girls were at a business dinner), and he suggested I meet him outside so that the unmentionable could be let out to roam the house in our absence. This made perfect sense, so I went down two flights of stairs to the garage and dove into my car looking for my shoes for the evening. Unfortunately, I did not close the door from the house to the garage completely. In a few short seconds, I felt something oddly wet at my feet.

Of course, this was the dog that makes me nearly hysterical. Like a shot, I was across the backseat huddled against the opposite door begging the dog NOT to get into the car.

He jumped in like he owned the thing. And then he lunged forward to smell the scared person. I was so far into the door that I might have left an imprint. And I picked up the only thing in the car that I could put between me and IT....my evidence textbook. I didn't want to hit the dog, or yell, because that might make him angry. So i just tried to keep the book between his nose and my body and tried not to faint.

Several minutes passed in this standoff. Then I remembered the door I had become one with....opened. I jumped out, closed the door behind me, and stared at him.

Then the fiance started moving around and I managed a feeble "help! help!"

He immediately took care of the situation, and I was saved.

Point of this story: Close garage doors behind you, and ALWAYS carry a big book.

Second point of this story: Do not assume that your very sweet, kind, calm canine will EVER be my friend.

Quote of the Story: "I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven't got the guts to bite people themselves." -August Strindberg


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