Who let the dogs out...who, who???

So today we went fishing. We went to a park where you pay the entrance fee to fish in this huge lake. There’s a little snack bar inside and a playground. After a while the baby got bored, so Debbie and I decided to leave. We had driven there, but since my dad, Pacho’s dad and Pacho weren’t yet ready to go, I said we could take a taxi back. Pacho wanted to at least drive us back up to the main gate, which was about a ¼ of a mile
away, but I said no, that we’d walk back. It was just a short walk along a dirt road with cow pastures on either side. No big deal. So I thought…and, like I tell my students…that’s what I get for thinking.
As we were walking to the entrance, (the baby, Debbie and I) all of the sudden this dog comes running out of a farm building used for the cows. It was barking and showing his teeth and very, very aggressive, lunging at us and everything. It was quite scary. I had Dash in my arms and pushed Debbie behind me. (like I have super powers or something…) I’m yelling at the dog, “BACK OFF! BACK OFF!”
Now in hindsight I realize that it would have been much more sensible to yell at the dog in Spanish since he probably isn’t bilingual, like the chicken, but at the time I wasn’t relying on sensibilities, but rather shear instinct.
Regardless of the language barrier, I think the dog gathered by my body language that I wasn’t going to turn and run. So here we are in the road, the dog lunging, me yelling, the baby in my arms, Debbie behind me, and this dump truck which had passed by only moments earlier starts backing up towards us. He sees what is going on and tells us to get in and he would take us the last 200 or so yards. I concede, seeing no other option and Debbie, Dash and I climb in.
So we made it to the entrance. I proceeded to hail a taxi, but the one that stopped tried to overcharge me and I told him “no thanks!” We opted for the bus and another adventure ensued.
As we get on the bus I can hear a group of teenagers in the back being loud and harassing everyone. Debbie and I sit down and I just ignore them. I mean, I put up with that every day! ☺ Anyways, they aren’t directing their taunts towards us until I get up to tell the bus driver where to drop us off. Then they start in saying, or trying to say, “Good Morning! Good Morning! Hello!” I waited until we were getting ready to get off and then I turned around and looked them right in the eye and said in Spanish, “It’s not ‘Good Morning’ it’s ‘Good Afternoon’ you idiot!” (Ok, for the record the word idiot was replaced with something a bit more profane, but since the children could be reading this, I’ll make it G-rated.) All the others were “oohing” at the one who I had told off but what could he do?
Guess my list of people who won’t be sending me Christmas cards is getting longer and longer. Obviously my policeman "friend" is at the top, then the dog, now the rowdy teenagers. So the saga continues…
☺