There were times when Steve worried me and aggravated the hell out of me at the same time. He went through this outdoorsman phase that really aggravated me. One of the things I did to help myself relax after a stressful day on the job was to come home and take Molly for a long walk through the woods and down to the creek. It was also a quite, peaceful walk and one that Molly and I looked forward to.
One day I came home and leashed Molly up and headed down the trail through the woods and I had almost made it to the creek when I happened to turn around and there stands Steve with his dog Mandy on a leash. He had staggered down the trail and was standing there huffing and puffing like he was drawing his last breath. Drinking 16 hours a day did not exactly put you in good physical condition.
He looks at me with his bloodshot eyes and said "We thought we would join you." Mandy was looking at me with such a look of hope on her face, I could not be mad at her. My first thought was, "That's great. Who the hell is going to help him back up the hill?" I already knew that answer and the largest part of me wanted to leave his ass down there.
Molly and I finished our walk and headed back up the hill. I told Steve I would be back in a few minutes to check on him. I took Molly back to the house and against my better judgement, I went back and checked on Steve. He had made it about ten feet further up the hill in 15 minutes before he had to stop and smoke another cigarette. If it wasn't for the fact I thought he might burn the woods down, I would have left him. I took Mandy from him and at least took her back to the house.
I went back down there for the third damn time and I had visions of me kicking Steve in the ass every time we took a step up the hill. "What" kick in the ass, "did you think", another kick in the ass, "you were doing?" and another kick in the ass. Dare to dream.
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