If only I’d had a camera to get you a picture of the man and dog in this story…
It was hot and humid. Too hot. Way too humid. Like New Jersey had become – not a rain forest – but a steam forest. The thick heat made me move slowly as I was hiking through the woods with Hazel. She was panting, I was dripping sweat. We were walking downhill on a wide path with tall hardwoods when we came upon a HUGE fallen tree blocking our way. The tree had cracked about four feet above the base of its trunk and from there it angled across the trail like a giant limbo pole that was missing a second person to hold its other side. Hazel ran right under it like there was nothing there. I trudged around it.
As we were about to continue on our way I heard someone breathing heavily from up the hill behind us and turned back to look. It was a man and his dog coming down the path. Normally I would think, “whatever, just another hiker and his dog” – but there was something funny about these two. The man was a broad-shouldered, 6-foot-five version of Jerry Garcia. He had long, white, wavy hair, a white beard, and a huge pot belly under a pink t-shirt. The shirt was bathed in sweat from his shoulders down to his belly, making a big, wet “V”. From the pink shirt and the hippie look you would think he was going to be a jolly fellow. But he had a serious look on his face – didn’t even make eye contact with us. You could see he was exhausted and determined, thinking, “get me down this hill and done with this hike already, it’s disgusting out here and I’m not cut out for this.”
Well, he was stomping down that hill with momentum and then he saw that fallen tree in his way. He looked like he was so tired, so “done,” that he didn’t have the strength or will to veer off the path and walk around it. So without stopping he lunged forward under the giant trunk and ducked – all in one motion. Hazel and I both watched curiously, thinking, “that’s not going to work.” And it didn’t. The huge man was able to duck under the tree and come out the other side in one motion, but when he tried to lift himself back to a stand there was no balance left in his massive legs. It was like watching a second tree fall, in slooow motion. He waved his big hands a little as if to grab something, but there was nothing to catch onto. Then he knew just to put them in front of him and soften his meeting with the ground. As he “timbered” forward, he kept that serious expression – I think because he was too tired to move his face muscles.
“Are you okay?” I asked, as he verrry slowly lifted one knee off the ground. In that instant, the tallest Standard Poodle I have ever seen hopped over the fallen tree and came to the man’s side. It was his dog. Without hesitation, the dog put his front paws on his owner’s side, clawed them up higher onto his upper back, and started humping the fallen man like it was a sexual revolution… a planned mating… a get-it-while-it’s-hot-all-you-can-hump-buffet.
My lips almost split apart as I fought back a smile. Tears welled in my eyes. From holding back the laughter I had to cross my legs – I almost pissed in my pants. It was totally surreal – like something went wild in fairy tale land and Paul Bunyan was suddenly getting humped by Babe the Blue Ox. I quickly calmed, though, and was able to keep it together out of respect. Then, with the cadence of a sportscaster I said, “Wow. Talk about adding insult to injury.”
From down on one knee the man looked up at me and cracked a smile. He brushed the humping dog off his back. He lifted himself up slowly, then dusted off his knees. We all continued silently down the path.
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