Last week I posted about how much I enjoyed riding in the bike buddy. However, there were two times when riding in the bike buddy caused my short life to flash before my eyes. For the first 3 years of my life, my parents had a gorgeous Newfoundland named Jason. He was a gentle giant, and he absolutely loved nothing more than to run alongside my parents when they rode their bikes. Once they began riding with me and my baby sister though, Jason had to stay home. But one day my mom decided Jason could come. She tied him to the bike seat post, and off we went. All was well until Jason spied a cat, and surged forward with all 100+ pounds of his concentrated energy. As the bike buddy surged forward, a wheel caught on the curb causing it to flip on its side. My sister and I were dragged for half a block before my parents could regain control of the dog and right the upended carriage. Fortunately we were unharmed.
Jason was stuck at home after that. One would have thought forever.
But a few months later my parents decided he had learned his lesson. This time they tied him directly to the bike buddy, I assume that they thought that since the bike buddy was heavier he would have to behave. Once again, Jason spied a cat. He began to run away with such force that he flipped the bike buddy completely. I was upside down, looking at leaves and debris rushing inches below my head as my Dad obliviously continued pedaling, unaware of the carnage behind him. I heard my mom screaming at both Dad and Jason to stop. Finally they did. My mom rushed to my side. Fortunately my head was fine, but my arm had flopped out and I had a nasty cut on my wrist. I still have the scar to this day. I actually think it looks kind of cool :)
That was the last time Jason ever joined us on a bike ride.
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