Battle of the Greyhounds

I was in a 'Wild West' mood and as I walked joyfully along the never-ending road in front of me, I recited the words from one of my favorite films - The Alamo. I had recorded it aeons ago and had watched the movie so many times over the past ten years that I knew practically all of the script off by heart. Considering where I was, it seemed an appropriate thing to do as it would inevitably see me to the end of the road without becoming bored of just walking and whistling.

Like a delirious pensioner in the latter stages of senile dementia, I waffled on as Davy Crocket (John Wayne) one minute and Jim Bowie (Richard Widmark) the next, shutting up only when I caught sight, or heard the sound of approaching cars from behind me, as I raised the thumb of my right hand instead, in a vain attempt to cadge a lift - but always to no avail. As the night darkened, my voice seemed to get louder in the still night air - or was it my own nervousness that was purposely causing me to raise my tone, just in case anyone else was out there, listening to my dulcet tones and could alleviate my solitude by simply calling out to me?

As dusk settled into dark and my long-range view diminished by the minute, I began to get a little nervous of the blackening skies and ghostly silence that surrounded me. Out here in the middle of nowhere, I was at nature’s mercy, open to all the elements and an easy prey for the likes of muggers, murderers and crack-heads - let alone the carnivorous beasts of the night that roamed free and survive on anything from fresh meat to rotting flesh! And what about the insects! The mosquitoes who suck you dry of blood, while depositing deadly viruses into your veins and arteries, rapidly destroying your immune system until it collapses and you keel over in agonizing pain, ending up a gurgling heap on the floor for several minutes until you finally die!

As you might have already guessed, my imagination was working overtime - as it always does in situations like these, so my antidote for this is to count to ten and think of one of the happiest times in my life, before returning to reality and looking at things in a more positive manner. I am not normally afraid of the dark, but being in a strange place does add spice to ones thoughts, however I was over the worst of my fears now and ready for the final part of tonight’s journey.

Suddenly, out of the corner of one eye I saw someone - or some 'thing' crossing the road about a hundred yards in front of me. On my second glance it seemed like that solitary figure had now turned into two smaller creatures, their shadow-like features moving towards me at a rapid pace and the sound of their ever-increasing gallop sending iceberg-size shivers down my spine.

Immediately I halted and backed myself up against a small hedgerow, trying to get a clear view of whom, or what was heading for me in such a hurry? Within seconds of my semi-retreat, two monstrous-looking canines bounded onto my pathway, both of them barking furiously at first, their saliva dribbling down between several rows of ominous fangs, before lowering their tones to a blood-curdling growl.

 "Nice doggies", I slurred, my underpants already needing a change, followed by "Sit down -be good doggies", but they were adamant at standing their ground and staring deep into my eyes, their long pink tongues lapping their faces, as the remaining droplets of their saliva released themselves, slopping aimlessly into the dust.

 Were these two beasts America's answer to The Hound of the Baskervilles - or were they the Tinderbox Dogs, reincarnated from the 'Grimm’s fairy tales' book I had read religiously as a child. The first dog had 'eyes as big as saucers' said the storyline, and the second had 'eyes as big as cartwheels' (if I remember correctly from 40 years ago?). Neither of these carnivorous canines could boast such attributes, but what they had was enough to scare the pants off me.

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