I gently took hold of Blondie's collar but she obviously wasn't ready to leave. She looked up at me with those deep brown soulful eyes filled with mischief, and took off in the opposite direction, looking back at me to see if I would chase her. I stayed put but Elliott crouched down then took off in circles around Blondie.
“Your dog is a bad influence on my Blondie,” I said flippantly before yelling, “Blondie Come Here!”
Both dogs turned and started running at full speed towards us while jumping and nipping at each other along the way. Elliott was headed directly at me, not paying attention to where he was headed. I braced myself to be slammed by this big athletic dog but at the last moment, Ryan slid in front of me like a baseball player stealing home stopping Elliott in his tracks. The two of them rolled on the grass, human arms and dog legs flailing. I couldn't believe my eyes when they both quickly jumped back on their feet completely unfazed.
“He has a little difficulty putting on the brakes sometimes,” Ryan told me as Elliott looked adoringly at his owner, obviously not hurt in the tackle. “Must be a bad habit from his racing days,” Ryan added as he gave Elliott an enthusiastic pat and the dog playfully rubbed his entire body against his owner, almost knocking him over. Ryan stepped back and waved his arms to catch his balance. His knees were grass stained.
“You’re my hero,” I remarked acting like a damsel in distress with my hands together by the side of my face, my right leg bent at the knee. As I put the leash on Blondie, I asked “Why don’t we meet here again tomorrow?”
“Deal,” he said as he rubbed the grass off his palms before putting his hand out to shake on it. When our hands touched, I was surprised at the chemistry I felt between us. He was nine years younger, so young I thought I better leave that one alone. As I got to my car, I looked back at him and he was waving good bye with both hands. I could feel the electricity from the parking lot.