What Planet Did These Weirdos Come From?!

I live in a part of the country where there is a “strong men are tough” stigma. At the same time, there is an undercurrent of fear of dogs. I found a puppy who has grown into a beautiful and mild-tempered, medium-sized husky. Recently, I adopted a companion for him: seven-week-old chow. She is roughly four pounds, doesn’t know a stranger, and approaches everyone with a wiggling backside and a tongue ready for kisses.

I live on the second floor to the left of the stair landing with no other entrance or exit. It’s nine o’clock at night. I have just taken my fur babies out to do their business and we are circling back through the parking lot heading to our stairwell. I see ahead of us a carful of young men pull in and get out of their car. There are five of them and they look to be about six feet tall on average, in their early twenties, all walking in front of us, also clearly headed for our stairwell. 

I slow down a little to give them time to get upstairs and not feel like they are being followed. I am fairly confident they are going to see my neighbor, whose door is right in front of the landing. They get to the top and my small pack starts up the stairs. Rather than go into the apartment, all five assume positions around the landing. They hear us start up and turn to face us.

One man looks at my puppies.

Young Man #1: “Do they bite?”

I reply in as friendly a way as possible.

Me: “No, but the husky sheds, so clear a path if you don’t want fur all over you.” 

Instantly, the seas parted as they all pressed as far away from us as possible. I got to my door and started fumbling with my keys. These are both puppies, less than five months old, and still in training. I managed to get my door open and sent the husky in but accidentally dropped my four-pound ball-of-love’s leash. She instantly started her wiggle dance of friendship and clumsily started heading for these five LARGE grown men. 

As one, in perfect synchrony, they lept to attention from their chairs and lounge positions and RAN down the stairs! They didn’t stop at the stairs, though, and despite my regaining control before she was even to the edge of the landing, they got back in their car, and the next sound I heard was the squealing of tires as they peeled out of the parking lot!

To this day, I cannot figure out what terrified them so bad about something that would have fit inside their shoe or pocket.

The last sound after the tires was my laughter, which lasted for forty-five minutes.