A Ride Interrupted

The fine weather that prompted me to go out and buy a bike was sadly transitory; there haven't been many opportunities to take a good first ride since, absent a few evening hours suitable for circumnavigating the neighborhood. Yesterday finally offered up a great chance to try out the bike trail that recently received the addition of a new bridge that connected it with plenty of parking, but the timing would be tight. I had an appointment at 2:00.

I hooked up the less-than-trustworthy bike rack that I'm using until such time as I can get a trailer hitch installed on the new Hyundai and headed for the trail. I'm always nervous about the entire rack falling off, so it was a tense few miles over to the trail. I timed my arrival poorly; I hit the trail at just the same time as a group of three consisting of a pair pf parents and a teen-ish boy. That in itself isn't a problem, but when the father and son proceeded on down the trail and left mom behind, causing her to hurl invectives at their retreating backs just as I ended up getting between the two packs, it got a little uncomfortable.

As we were riding along in a long disjointed string, I saw what looked like a dog come from one of the yards and start following the boy, who by that time was well out in front of all of use. The dog eventually lost interest in him and dropped back to follow me. He was a fine looking German Short-Haired Pointer, but was extremely thin. Skin and bones, in fact. I made the perennially attempted yet always futile gesture of telling him to "GO HOME!!" with the usual results. He kept trotting alongside as if he planned to continue to do so all day. As he followed me across a fast, busy two lane road, I began to realize that not only was he not going to go home, but was also in quite a bit of danger. I had to stop to resolve this situation.

I pulled over to the side of the trail and checked the tags on his collar. A dog permit tag, circa 2007. Three rabies tags, including a currently valid one issued from a veterinarian's office twenty miles away in Plain City. There was no sign of a "Hi. My Name Is" kind of tag. After a few minutes, the rest of the family caught up, and the son came back down the trail to see what the hubbub was. We chatted a little bit and ended up calling the county dog pound, the second time that I had had to do that in as many days.

They biked on, but I sat at the side of the road for half an hour waiting for the dog catcher. It was pleasant enough - the weather was good and the dog was, I think, eager for some company after what had to have been at least a couple of weeks living on his own. The delay cost me too much time to allow for the continuation of my ride; Lily Chapel we have to wait for another day.