Rocky, a 6-month-old rottweiller and newest addition to our family, traveled with me while I worked. I took photos in people's homes of their children, and I did a lot of local driving. Rocky loved the car, and I loved the companionship. In between appointments we would locate a park to play, walk, or just relax.
As I pulled my van into a small parking lot, I took notice of a maroon pickup truck with a specialized license plate. A police car had pulled up next to him and they seemed to be talking. Not thinking much about it, Rocky and I proceeded into this little wooded area to walk and enjoy the day. Strolling along the creek bed, relishing our time with nature and with each other, I thought it didn't get much better than this.
Suddenly Rocky changed pace and lunged up towards higher ground, yanking my unsuspecting self with him. (He may have only been 6 months but he was already a good-sized dog and
very strong.) When we arrived at the top of this modest but rugged hill, there was a massive tree trunk blocking the path. My dog didn't seemed to mind, and I caught him mid-air as he tried to jump it. "Oh, no! We aren't going there." It wasn't that I minded taking a hike off the main path or even climbing the beast but something was most definitely telling me,
"NO!" I wasn't about to test what would happen if I didn't listen.
Quickly I took control and drug a not so willing rottie with me. Resisting most of the way, Rocky was giving me a workout, but I wasn't feeling good about this at all. My heart was pounding against my chest, and I didn't know why but I knew something wasn't right.
Upon re-entering the parking lot, I immediately observed the two vehicles were gone. Rocky hadn't relieved himself yet so we took one more walk over to the bridge leading out, only a short 30-feet away. The nervousness I grappled with hadn't dissapated so one quick glance at the stream of water and foliage below and we were out of there. I wasn't comfortable with being on high alert and not knowing why.
No sooner had we turned to leave did the maroon pickup return in a blaze of fury, swerving around my van, literally doing a 360, kicking up gravel and dust in its tracks, and finally coming to a screeching halt directly behind my vehicle. Trapped! My heart took up residence in my throat and everything in me screamed,
"RUN!" Panic rose within me but, just as it did, a strong but tranquil voice entered my chaotic thoughts. "Stay calm! Retrieve your keys out of your pocket slowly and walk to your car as if nothing is wrong."
No time to question the reason of all of this, I did what I was told. Step by step I was guided even to the point of looking directly into this furious man's eyes and smiling. As crazy as that seemed then, I followed orders obediently. The unspoken anger bellowed off of this guy like steam off a blown radiator but he didn't move from the spot he stood, choosing to observe me instead. I have come to the realization now that the smile was to let him know, "Hey, everything is great and wonderful with the world. I didn't see anything you didn't want me to. I'm not a threat."
Concentrating on the voice's methodic commands, I nonchalantly put Rocky into the backseat, got myself into the driver's seat, and, hands shaking, turned the key. For a moment I listened to the hum of the engine and let it comfort me as I checked my rearview mirror. As bizarre as it may have been, he was still standing there, obstructing the way I had come in, watching me carefully, perhaps for any sign that would give me away. Maybe the voice was talking to him, too, telling him all was okay. Surely I do not really know.
Panic set in again as I stared at the entrance and thought I had no way out but it was quickly combated by a reminder from my voice of reason. The bridge I had just walked across was also an exit. I cautiously slid my car into drive and pulled out. I drove slowly fighting everything in me to explode out of there. Many times I would check my mirrors but he did not follow.
Even today, 11 years later, my stomach still fills with acid and my body trembles with fear at the memory of it. I never did discover the truth of that day. Maybe it is for the best. However, I did learn how important it is to love yourself enough to trust your instincts, follow your heart, and allow your angels or masters to guide you. It doesn't always come in loud, booming voices; rather, mostly in whispers so low you must be still and quiet to hear them. If you do you will be rewarded tenfold...sometimes with your life.
