My dog saved me. I think.

I have a Border Collie named Pepper.  Here is a picture of her:

Humiliated

Contemplative

Ready to rock and or roll.

There is a park north of us and a golf course behind it with a great trail that runs behind both.  (That's a horrible sentence but I'm in a hurry.)  Sometimes to switch things up I run up that trail and then back home.  Today I went up that trail.  The dog is usually on my heels and stays there unless she smells something interesting like the dead raccoon in the middle of the road...but that's another story. 

I was going up the trail, which is deserted this time of day, and turned around to find her but she was way behind me.  I called for her but instead of running to me like she normally

does she basically walked to me.  I started running again and she wouldn't come.  She kept looking up the hill at something I couldn't see nor identify.  I watched her for a minute, called her name, but she wouldn't come.  So, I decided to run towards her to see what she would do and she started running with me again.

What was up that hill?  A cougar?  A bad man?  I don't know.  I didn't have the creepy crawlies but she did so I obeyed her instincts and hoped that no one else would follow after me and go up that hill. 

And that's how my dog saved me.  I think.