I dust off the cobwebs of my bicycle. I tighten the bolts, lubricate the chain, test the brakes and re inflate the tires. This will be my third time out in as many days and I am developing a routine. I actually look forward to my time with 'Bessie'. Sometimes I go the route that takes me to Arcadia Park #8. I love the bench swing there and I am always alone to think. I look at the blue sky, the spring green leaves and smell the blossoms of spring. It feels good and familiar to be out on my bike again, and my ability to cope with life is increased ten fold. Go figure.

Today about 5 minutes into my ride, I hear a horrible gut wrenching commotion. I can not, will not ignore the intensity and impending doom I feel and quickly turn around to adjust my ears to the starting point of this frightening sound.

I lock eyes with a woman calling 9ll, frantically pacing in front of her house. I hear her try to remain calm and inform the dispatcher that there are two dogs next door to her, tearing apart another dog.
I calmly point to the house I suspect, she nods. I drop my bike. I open the gate and turn the corner of the house where I sum up the situation in about a nanosecond.
A 19 year old is holding back one mastiff, color drained from his face and understandably paralyzed with fear. The other mastiff has a third dog, a Lab/pitbull mix down. I walk over to the mastiff and hit his back with my fist. I went deep within my soul and growled a deep loud "NOOOOO. The mastiff turned and released the dog who is, at this time, with eviscerated belly, and tooth punctured left buttocks. Patches of black dog hair are visible all over the deck as is blood.
I immediately pick up two aluminum poles, one for each hand. The poles were from some pool equipment, and wouldn't have stopped a kitten...but I was giving off so much testosterone at that moment I believe I saw the mastiff give a sigh of relief it was over and no longer an issue.

I was a force fed center of the Universe of several people and animals today. The neighbor who was calling 911, whose name was Phylis, I was to soon learn, called me an "Angel" and I was welcome at her table anytime. She brought me water...and we embraced each other. Perfect strangers brought together by a force we both called out to at the same time.
I rode home after the police arrived and picked up my seven year old granddaughter from her school, before I started supper for my 87 year old mother.