I talk a wild talk about Harley-Davidsons, but in truth, I am scared to death of them ;-)… Let’s just say that I have been given rides on the back of five different motorcycles. Of the five trips, I have been in wrecks three times. The last ride was with my husband who had just bought a nice road motorcycle. He begged and pleaded with me to get on. I finally relented. We were cruising through our town and were passing by a friend’s home – both of us were waving at our friend because he was outside in his yard. We were not paying attention to the road. Suddenly, “wwhhaackk..ssplaaaatt..whuuumppp” I flew and my husband flew and we both skidded across the asphalted street. The motorcycle had hit something in the middle of the road…the friend watching said it was a dog. I was upset and got up from the road to see if it was okay; but it wasn’t there. It had run off. I checked to see if my hubby was okay. He was scraped a bit but fine…so I kissed him and took off in search of the dog. Now, I’m thinking that we had hit a small dog who now needed major medical attention. Nope, it was a huge Great Dane, and believe it or not, it was in better shape than my husband or myself. The dog is still alive today…my husband and I recovered from our scrapes and bruises; however, I have not gotten on a motorcycle since.
The dog was the only Great Dane in the neighborhood and everyone was familiar with it, (a crazy dog some said) so it wasn’t hard to find. He was a little shaken, but okay. I went back and checked on him for the next two weeks and he was fine. The motorcycle now has a little bent bar that surrounds the engine. I feel kind of sad for my husband because he bought the bike thinking that we could cruise together around the countryside and now his wife is too afraid. I keep telling him to just go and enjoy the ride and that I will wait for him. He won’t go though.
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