Yesterday, I grabbed the camera and Matt (so he could drive me while I gawked at the gorgeous colors...plus his height helps to elongate my ever-widening frame in pictures) and we embarked on our west Michigan color tour. It was a drizzly, cold, gray day, but the drizzle soon stopped and the sun even poked out a couple of times as we headed north to see the spectacular colors and visit some covered bridges. We were able to visit three of the four on our list (one was closed to the public, darn it) and we were even able to drive over two of them (bridges, not the list).
We had some drama at the second bridge that involved Matt saving my life. Well, it wasn't really that extreme...but it could have been. Matt crossed the bridge to go underneath to look at some fish. I went down to the water on my side to take some pictures and that's when there was a ferocious barking and a woman frantically yelling in the woods behind me, trying to get her dog under control. Based on the horrific, blood-curdling barking, the dog was a reincarnation of Cujo...or more likely, a hell hound...and my heart about jumped out of my chest. As the barking and yelling kept getting closer, I yelled for Matt while I frantically started trying to decide which tree I was going to have to climb and how far up I had to be so the maniacal beast wouldn't rip me to shreds. (Oh, did I mention that Matt had the car keys and I couldn't go cower in the car like the big baby I'll hastily agree I am when there's a demon dog who is probably thirsting for my blood?) Matt, being a thoughtful husband, was already sprinting over to me as I yelled for him. (I'm sure he was being thoughtful and protective...and not trying to prevent any embarrassment he'd feel from the screaming, crying, hysterical hot mess he knew would be coming from my side of the bridge any second. Plus, he probably did not want to have to climb up a tree to coax me down or...God forbid...have to catch me as I fell from a tree.) Thankfully, the lady got demon beast under control before I was eaten alive. It was pretty scary, though. Big dogs absolutely, positively terrify me. And I definitely must have been terrified if I was actually thinking of climbing a tree!
After my heart rate became normal again and I stopped shaking, I finally remembered that I had brought along the tri-pod (duh) and we were able to take some cheesy photos of us posing at the last bridge. (For your sake, I'm not posting those. You're welcome.) I'm extremely happy and thankful I don't have any pictures of Cujo mauling me...or any pictures of me being stitched up in the nearest emergency room. Life is good...and would be even better if I don't ever have to come in contact with a big dog. Ever.
