Sunrise, Sans Peace

The other day, I decided it would be cool to see a sunrise out here in Africa. There is a hill that lends itself to sunrise watching just a short walk from my house, so I decided to mosey on over early one morning.

Key plot point- All the preceeding night, I had heard dogs barking and running around. We've had a bit of an infestation lately. The dogs here can be pretty nasty/dangerous, so I brought a machete, just as a worst case scenario sort of thing.

Turns out the sunrises here are pretty lame, because the mist rises up as the sun does, and blocks out any view.

The mist was however pretty interesting to see, and from that hill (which also has a giant radio tower with a ladder on it) I could see for miles in a couple of directions. The African plains were covered in a fluffy, chilly blanket of white.

Since I was busy viewing vistas, (and did not spend my whole time up on the nice safe radio tower) I had been praying that if God allowed dogs to get near me, that he'd at least give me some preparation time.

I was up on the radio tower when I decided that this sunrise thing was a bit of a lost cause. I had left my machete down on the ground. I climbed down, getting a little dizzy from the height.

The second my foot hit the ground, I heard the most gut-twisting howly charge-bark I have ever heard. It was territorial, it was grumpy, and it was getting closer.

My first thought-

"dogs travel in packs."

My second thought-

"that was like... the perfect amount of preparation time"

So I snagged my machete, whipped around, struck a ready pose, and started thinking about strategy for fighting a pack of dogs.

All of this is in the expanse of about two seconds.

When my eyes adjusted to the distance and picked up the dog shape, I realized the dog was not so much charging, as it was galumphing.

It was also shaped like a barely oblong submarine with sticks coming out of it.

It was the fat, ugly, lovable dog that belonged to the Pastor of the local church.

So here I am, sputtering and trying to push down my caveman instincts, while trying to pull out my "make this stupid dog shut up because it's six o' clock in the morning for crying out loud" instincts, which is a very specific file, and difficult to search for on such short notice.

At this moment, Dr. Dave Thompson stepped out of his front door, all dressed in jogging attire. He witnessed quite a sight.