When I think back to my ten years of carrying mail,
what pops into my head is dogs.
Dogs growling at me, trying to bite me, dogs biting me...
Well, you get the picture.
When Gary had his hernia surgery,
I was lucky enough to be assigned route 17.
After being on a different mail route every day
for six months, three months on the same route
in beautiful BotHell was like going on a vacation.
My first day on his route, I was near the end up on 212th SW
when this huge white dog came charging at my mail jeep.
All fur and teeth and ready to shred me.
I threw the mail in the box and shoved up my window.
This happened every day for two months!
One Friday afternoon I arrived with the mail in one hand and a
jelly doughnut in the other.
I was in my own little Get the Right Mail in the Right Box world
when the dog charged me.
Startled, I threw my doughnut at the ferocious dog.
Said dog, opened wide and caught the doughnut in its mouth.
Then The Dog quit barking, sat down, and started wagging its tail.
The following day was hot and I was getting miserable.
I opened the door on my little mail-jeep to cool off.
Driving with your door open is a huge no no.
I have two friends that have accidentally fallen out.
So I arrived near The Dog's house and The Dog Owner Man
is pulling weeds in his front yard and
his pony of a dog is sleeping on the front porch.
Next thing I know,
The Dog is sitting on my lap,
in the mail truck,
licking my face.
The Dog Owner Man walks over with an astonished expression and says,
"Wow! Sitka doesn't usually like ANYBODY!"
Dogs, like people, are unpredictable.
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