One afternoon I was about halfway through the run, when I saw a young kid, a teenager at most, walking a pit bull nearly as big as he was.
I don't like running past dogs -- they sometimes get spooked and start barking. But the kid was black, and I was afraid to cross the street for fear of being tagged racist. So I persevered.
I heard growling, then "Janell, heel! Stop that!" Then the dog lunged forward and bit me on the butt.
"Janell, Janell, stop that!" the boy yelled, jerking the leash.
Grudgingly, growling, Janell the Pit Bull sat.
"Your monster dog just but me on the butt!" I exclaimed.
"I'm sorry, Mister. Janell's really a sweetheart. She just thought your behind was candy, and she want a taste." He grinned at me with that unmistakable appreciation that sets off your gaydar. I was in no mood for cruising, but I did notice that he was a twink, not a kid -- short, light skinned, solidly built, with dark brown eyes, a broad nose, and sensual lips.
I leaned down to pet Janell. She growled softly. "I'm Boomer. And sweetheart or not, my butt hurts."
The rest of the story is on Tales of West Hollywood.