Skinned Knees and Flattened Dogs

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Disclosure–no dogs were actually flattened or otherwise harmed in the writing of this post.

(I love all animals, dogs especially, and I support the SPCA through regular pay roll deductions so when I thought I drove over a small dog this afternoon, I was shaken, not stirred, and quite upset.)

Our department met for a going away lunch for a counsellor who is moving to a different district. Despite the weather forecaster’s promise of a cloudy dry day, it was misty, almost drizzly. Naively believing the forecast, I wore a jacket without a hood and left my umbrella at home. By lunch time my hair had swollen to grotesque proportions in the humidity, and as usual, I was running late, but I absolutely wasn’t speeding. I drove with my normal care and attention.

I passed a vehicle parked on the side of the street as the driver opened the back door. A small, Jack Russell-y dog leapt out and ran, seemingly straight under my car. I slammed on the brakes, my heart thumping like a jack hammer.

The dog’s owner, a weasly little man considerably less attractive than his pet, waved me on. “He’s fine!” He yelled. “You missed him!”

I never actually saw the dog when I looked in the rear view mirror, but I checked the car when I arrived at the restaurant and didn’t see any bits of dog stuck to the tires, so I have to believe I didn’t flatten that lovely little terrier.

Inside one of our group decided to take a series of photos to record the event for a co-worker who couldn’t make it. Given my frantically beating heart and earlier discussed hair issues, I didn’t want my picture taken, but she persevered, taking numerous shots from different angles from each end of the table to get all of us in. I looked away.

What’s the etiquette around taking the picture of someone who obviously doesn’t want to be photographed? Surely, having the technology to take multiple photos anywhere, anytime doesn’t give one the right to do so.

Oh, and the skinned knee? My boy fell down playing dodge ball in PE and now has a huge seeping scab as big as his knee cap.

I had to grab him a band aid on my way to the wine after school.

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