I plan my morning outing with Molly. We’re going to walk along a street with a sidewalk and continue up a long hill. Easy, lots of room, normally no dogs to bring out Molly’s monster side. We get to the street, across from the sidewalk, on the shoulder. Two women stroll along the sidewalk at an exact pace that prevents me from crossing and overtaking them along the entire block. As we reach the corner to go up the hill, the women continue straight and a man approaches from the opposite direction. I think he will pass and he turns and heads up the hill on the sidewalk in front of us. Molly and I switch sides and move along the grass across the street. Again the guy walks at the perfect speed to keep me from jumping on to the sidewalk ahead of him. “We’re on the wrong side of the street,” I whisper to Molly. (I like to impart my neuroses to my pets!) All the way up the hill, we walk parallel to the guy and then Molly and I cut in a ways behind him.
Heading back to the truck, we have it all to ourselves. At the bottom of the hill, a flock of wild green parrots gathers on the median. As we come up, the birds squawk and take flight, flashing brilliant, bright red tail feathers. So far, we have seen no dogs, which makes it a good walk in my mind. Just as we reach the corner, half a block from the truck, a couple appears in the crosswalk across the street, behind a small black terrier. Molly sees the dog and busts into her full berserk–barking, leaping, cartwheeling, dragging me along behind her like a concrete skier. I rein Molly in and get her to heel. As I get to the truck, I laugh. I had the perfect idea of exactly how the walk would go, and as with virtually every plan my Self comes up with, it happened completely differently and worked out beautifully. Let. it. go! Let. it. be!