Tough day on the outskirts of Seoul? Yeah, I guess. But not without beauty.
First off, a rather kind host gave me the key to a beautiful apartment. So this morning, I lolled around for a while. Eventually I started listening to Not For Sale and felt many sadnesses sweep over me.
After thinking for a while, I decided to explore the the area in which my friend lives. Someone’s gotta do it… So I set off running toward a mountain. However the mountain wouldn’t let me on for the ride and kept me always on the road, putting me off at every turn.
Finally, I gave up and turned across the river toward other mountains. By and by, I came to a small path that wound up into a the mountains. I followed it and wearing it out, kept going across the leafy floor until I hit a ridge whereupon another path lay waiting in vain for sunshine. The path led me down onto a rather amicable road. Or so I thought.
Heading up the road, I noted a few traditional Korean huts betokening a park. Thinking to myself that I was on a lovely park road, I took in the rolling woods and the joy of going where my legs would carry me. Before long I passed a sign that had a person crossed out and showed a picture of dogs and fire. I thought it was rather strange; either dogs and fires were permissible in the park or it was warning me that dogs and fires were permissible, but people were not! Very shortly after I came upon a temple-like building with large, white dog sitting in the courtyard. I came to a halt and turned to jog back, but it was too late; the dog had seen me!
I continued to jog nonchalantly away, but the fanged beast, it’s fearsome brother a ways behind, raced up behind me and clamped down upon my ankle with 400 pounds of searing pressure. I felt the pain shoot up the front and back of my leg, at the same time being tripped up, tumbled to the ground and rolled. Quickly on my feet again lest the monster go for the throat I took an offensive position and growled loudly and menacingly moving toward it a step. It backed up a few inches and I turned and bolted, the monster quickly taking up pursuit. As it neared, I wheeled round and let out another loud growl, threatening it as best I could. Then I was off running again. This time it did not follow.
My hands, knees, elbows, and ankle bleeding, I ran nonchalantly past the workers on the road who were not kind enough to warn me of the impending danger ahead, and down to the end, where I found a large gate. No wonder there were guard dogs. Too bad I’d come from another way. I went around the gate and jogged the three kilometers back to my friend’s apartment, where I patched myself up as much as possible, alternately soaking my ankle in salts to help prevent infection and icing to stop the readily noticeable swelling from the pressure injury.
So there I sat, chatting with Louis (a kinder dog, who also lives in the apartment) and waiting for my friend to come home and shower sympathy upon my battered self. I’m not sure I got as much sympathy as I wanted, but I got wonderful company, and that’s much better.