I type these words with an ear worm: Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer!
Today, the UW Communications Department held its annual “Fund Run” at Green Lake. We “picnic” adjacent to the Lake, at Woodland Park Zoo. While Mike, Katie and I were walking around the Lake, we spotted a Great Dane in the water; I commented to Mike that the dog looked like Scooby Doo.
We were walking up the hill from the W Green Lake Way N (the southwest end of the Lake) to the picnic area (Area #6, by the horseshoe pit, for the locals reading this) when we spotted the Great Dane and her owner, who was talking to someone playing horseshoes. “There’s Scooby, again,” I said.
No sooner were the words out of my mouth than the dog spotted us — specifically, Katie, who was walking in front (on lead). The Dane (illegally off-lead – this is NOT the off-leash dog park!) rushed her. Katie, being an intelligent Cairn Terrier, ducked behind my legs. Scooby took me out, in flying tackle style. My legs went out from under me, and *splat* (+ “ooff”) I fell flat to the ground, face-down.
I had a Nikon D60 with telephoto lens around my neck. It left a nice spot below my sternum, right side. I “woke up” lying on my back (I have no memory of being on my stomach, other than the pain of the camera in my ribs). Mike thinks the angle of the hill contributed to my rolling over onto my back.
The owner apologized and said he was going to get the dog; I asked him not to leave and he said he wouldn’t. [I also told him, in a calm voice (no shouting) if the camera was broken that he was going to get a bill for $800.] The woman with him (he said she was his girlfriend), asked me a few times if I was all right (I kept saying that I didn’t know yet); she did not give me her name until I’d asked for it three times. I promptly forgot it.
We walked up the hill the rest of the way, since the man (Steve Phillips, he said) had not returned. He had proceeded to leave (abandoning his girlfriend?) and was about 100 feet away, near the trail. I shouted (some of you know how well I can project my “range voice”); he came back and gave me his address. (You can tell that I was shaking, the picture is blurry.)
Because of his “hit and run” attitude, we called Seattle animal control and reported it. I’d gotten only his address, didn’t think to ask for phone number.
Within a quarter hour I was getting stiff (I’m *old* people!), and I got light-headed walking to the truck. Given we were where we were, we solved my blood sugar problem with a visit to Red Mill! Left a voice mail for my physical therapist, as I think my lower back will be very unhappy by Monday. A little while later I had tingling in my left arm/neck (weird, the stiff feeling was my right side). I’ve taken Naproxin and hot-tubbed.
As Victoria, our development officer, said, “People who walk farm animals around the Lake need to keep them under control!”
There’s no way to know if Seattle Animal Control actually gets in touch with him or not, but they said that they would try to find him and talk to him.
So the moral of the story, I guess, is that you really can’t trust Scooby Doo!