If you’re a regular here on Me? A Model?, it’s so nice to see you again! If you’re a newcomer and have no idea what the heck is going on, check out this post and this post and it’ll all be clear as a bell.
Anyhow, this week’s installment is WILD, so grab your safari cap and hang on tight!
The time: August 2011
The place: Cape Cod
I’m feeling: Petrified. Curious. Adventurous. Playful. Protective of my owners. Protective of myself. Mostly protective of myself.
I know what you’re thinking: Brody, how brave you must be! Look at you, facing that horrible creature and still standing strong like some sort of superhero! You’re amazing!
Oh stop! You’re making be blush. But seriously, all of those things are true.
We went on vacation last summer and for the most part it was super fun. We had just spent a lovely day on the beach and I figured we were headed back to the house to relax, maybe eat a little steak, and all of a sudden Chrissy calls me into the room and BAM! This thing is lookin’ me in the eyeball! What even is it?!? I’ve got to tell ya, my “friends” are sick. SICK! And before you start, yes, I realized that whatever that beast is is also the pattern on my collar. The irony is not lost on me, so just save it.
Well anyways, there we are, having an old fashioned Texas staredown (which I am obviously winning) when suddenly the brute has the gall to make the first move!
Okay, so maybe it didn’t “move,” per se, but I could see that it was thinking of it, so I headed for the hills. Some dummies would say that only cowards retreat, but I think that it takes a lot of dignity and courage and smarts to know when it’s time to get the crap out of town. It’s called self-preservation. Write that down.