The day already wasn't going all that well when I set out from my apartment, dog in tow. Muki and I have been getting along alright, but I get the feeling that her owners aren't all that up on discipline. Or maybe she's just taking advantage of the fact that I'm not her usual walker, I don't know. Regardless, I had her on the retractable leash, you know the kind-- plastic handle, cord which winds out to 15 feet, standard leash material up near the clip that attaches to the collar-- all very standard. This comes in as important later, so bear with me. Now, it takes about 25 minutes to walk to my student accomodation from the house I'm currently minding. This route takes us through Seaton Park, a bit of a shortcut, and with lots of big green spaces and interesting smells for the pup. However, Muki has dominance issues. They'd said that she didn't react well to other dogs while she's on a leash, maybe something happened to her when she was a puppy, they were pretty hazy on the details. But no worries, she's a good dog, we'll all be fine. And we are fine. However, she nearly took my shoulder out of its socket lunging at red squirrels on the walk to the student abode. I was heading back to my place to take a shower (as all the soap around here has bit of kelp and hippie in it, at which the jew-fro outright scoffs) and grab some different clothes, even trade in the long grey wool coat for the shorter blue wool jacket. I take my shower, Muki growls at my one remaining roommate, I grab the newly chosen coat, cell phone and keys out of the door and head back for the house, thinking I might still have time after the walk to get to the grocery store (oh wonder of wonders). We'd made it past several other dogs on leashes without a major confrontation, mostly done because I pull her in so tightly when I see another dog on the horizon and try to point her nose in another direction until they get past. However, we were almost out the park, and I thought the coast was basically clear. Coming down the hill at the far end of the park, near Wallace Tower where the path curves to the street, Muki had out about 12 feet of her leash as a man appeared from around the corner. Now, he wasn't on a bike, he wasn't running, he didn't have a dog with him on a leash or even one off a leash, he was JUST WALKING. (They'd told me that sometimes Muki is attracted to runners or bicycles because of the rapid movement.) It was at this point where she growls, barks, and LUNGES AT HIM. I yell, try to pull up the now fully extended leash, and watch in horror as she continues barking ferociously. I grab at the cord with my right hand and pull back, but Muki is a rather strong beastie, and the cord literally burned through my hand. I'm not sure how, but within 30 seconds she was back at my side, rolled on her back at my feet after several menacing words on my part. I held her on her back until the man walked past as I appologized profusely for what had just happened. He passed without further incident, and we struck out for home. It was at this point when I noticed the blistering burns across the pads of three out of four fingers on my right hand, the palm itself, and the ripped cut on the inside knuckle of my index finger... OW. ow, ow, ow.
It's hard to see, but she totally ripped off the skin in a burn-blister sort of way. So, I kept the leash fully rolled in for the rest of the walk home. We'd made it through the gate without further incident when I put my battered hand in the pocket of my blue coat... and realized that I'd grabbed my flat keys, but forgotten to grab their house keys out of the pocket of my grey coat. There was nothing doing but to walk BACK through the park where she'd just tried to eat a walker, all the way to my flat and get the key. Damn, damn, damn. We head back, myself refusing to allow her more than 5 feet of lead, and all the while cradling my right hand and holding the leash in my left. We were alright until we approached the fountain near the north side of the park, when some stupid chow mix comes vaulting out of nowhere, straight at Muki. I quickly try to turn Muki away from the oncoming, obviously over-friendly flying ball of fur, only to have Muki growl and snap, wrenching the leash nearly out of my hands. Unfortunately, my handedness was against me here, and I transferred the leash to my dominante right hand, despite the now oozing burns. Eventually the chow decided that it wasn't going to make a new friend and took off. We eventually made it back to my apartment, grabbed the key out of my pocket, and I collapsed on the bed for a good three minutes to regroup before walking back across the park for the FOURTH time. After rummaging through every drawer in my room I remembered that I'd loaned my bandaids to a flatmate who is currently in her native land, I swore profusely and struck out once more, patting my pockets repeatedly, trying to ward off any more stupid, stupid mistakes. On the walk back, version 4.0, we were AGAIN hailed by the chow, with similar results. Le sigh. Once we finally got back to the house and through the door, Muki and I weren't really on speaking terms. That didn't last long, I can't really hold a grudge against a dog, but I did try. With all possibility of a grocery run out of the question, I decided to pop over to the local co-op and just grab something simple and probably dreadfully unhealthy. This I found in the form of a kiesh which I bought and summarily placed in the oven. Then my mother called, telling me that I had recieved calls from a financial institution, telling me that I have an account in default and to please call, and Sallie Mae who also needed me to call. After getting all of the information, I called about the account. You see, I only have the one checking account with this particular financial institution, though I did formerly also have a credit card through them. I'd closed the card back in September before leaving for the UK. Only, I guess not. Somehow there was a $2.50 charge for "credit protection" which went on after I'd closed the account but before their records has "matured." And so, through non-payment, it had snowballed to $60-some dollars. Qua? Excuse me? After a bit of talking, they decided to waive the fees and ACTUALLY close the account. Why, thank you. Then I called Sallie Mae, only to have her tell me that my loans from my undergrad had gone into collection. WHAT. "But I sent in my in-school deferrment form that I'd requested from you. You are currently paying my way through my graduate program," says I. "Hmm, I see that. Well, we never got the form back... Oh, wait, I see here that it was recieved but not entered. We're going to need you to print such-and-such form off from our website and have your university back-date it. We'll suspend all action on the account right now and await this new paperwork," says they. Oh, well, thank you so very much. Le sigh. At least I don't have to repay right now, I guess that's a mercy. So, then I call back the parents and let them know that I'm not a deliquent, that everything is alright, and then I smell my keish. Oh, no. I run to the oven, pull it out-- the whole top of it is blackened. On any other day, this wouldn't have reduced me to level of non-verbal rage that I hit, but my hand hurt, my legs hurt, and the only thing I had to eat in the entire house that wasn't organic pumpkinseed loaf made without eggs, dairy or wheat or elderflower juice had just burnt under my nose. "Why are you snapping at me?" asks my mother when I retort that I'll call the bank back and get them to send out a letter confirming the closing of the account. "Because it's been a rotten, rotten day, okay?" I half-scream into the skype headset, "please, just leave me alone!" We quickly made up, I peeled away the burnt layers of egg and cheese, and Muki sat on my feet until I forgave her everything. She can be quite convincing when she's not trying to eat people.
At the end of the day, just glad it's the end of the day.
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