As a teenager, I loved to ride my bike. It was a heavy, steel bike, beat up and rusted, that was a hand-me-down from an older brother. I'd ride five miles into town and then five miles back home. I'd also acquired a large dog, a boxer, who loved to run with me as I rode the bike. However, he had a bad habit of running off on these journeys with me on the bike, and be gone for days. So I decided I'd put a leash on him and just let him pull me on the bike.
This worked out really well for a long time. I'd just sit on that old heavy bike, and Jock would run his heart out, racing along the road and pulling me and the bike along at a good speed. We were the topic of a lot of conversation in the neighborhood. Everyone thought it was such a joke, me letting the dog pull me while sitting on the bike. I just felt like I was quite smart to have figured out a way to ride the bike, while at the same time letting the dog exercise and keep him with me.
However, all this came to a dreadful end one morning. I had just started out on our ride. Jock was especially strong that morning, going full blast from the get-go. Just as we neared the intersection nearest our house, he suddenly came to a full stop. I, being on the bike, couldn't stop as suddenly, and continued along the road, almost immediately being right on top of him. As I got alongside, Jock jumped right into the ditch, and pulled me and the bike right along with him. When I became aware of my surroundings, I realized that right in that ditch was Jock, the bike, me and a snake!! Jock and the snake were having a face-off. Then Jock jumped toward the snake, the snake gave a half-hearted strike, then started racing away. Meanwhile, I was crawling as fast as I could toward the road.
After it was all over, I felt lucky just to have some road rash and bruises. I could have been snake bit, or have broken bones. As it was, the neighborhood just had another story to tell about me and the bike and the dog. This time, that story included the snake.
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