At 2:15PM, I'm delivering mail
Searching, using my mailman number-sensing sense.
Lady comes out of the house.
So does big black lab.
Normally, labs are nice gentle dogs.
This one is smiling. All teeth showing.
Lady yells, "DON"T WORRY, HE WON"T BITE!!!"
Not "Here, Fluffy."
Not "Come here, Princess."
Just "DON"T WORRY..."
Neither the dog nor I (or I???) listen.
I feed the dog the lady's mail.
I feed him the neighbor's mail.
I feed him the mail for the rest of the block.
Shakes his head as he chews.
I go for my mace, strapped on my 'postal utility pouch'.
Teeth clamp on the can, ripping it and the strap off my pouch.
He spits it out.
I start using the special MAILMAN vocabulary for Dogs (part of our interspecies postal training.)
"Bad dog", I say.
"Go away, you big flea-bitten son of a bleep."
That does the trick.
(Or else he dog had his fill of canvas.)
Lady manages to drag him away., leaving claw marks in her lawn.
As I stoop to collect the tattered remains of the block's mail, I hear her mutter,
"You shouldn't have excited him like that!"