A Dog’s View

Fields of vision are limited. Generally my field ranges between 55” to 70”, up from ground level if lollygagging, strolling and browsing–unless there is someone in front of my 63” frame. Then that field narrows to back, head, shoulders, depending on how tall that someone is.

Perspectives change. When your field of vision is only 6” to 8” up from ground level–well that’s a COMPLETELY different world. The focus becomes feet first then eyes. It’s like the body mass in between is a big fish blob. No legs. No hands. No arms. Just feet with eyes looking downward. This must be what dogs see most of the time.

This must have been what yappy little dog saw as my rollerblades whizzed by. Actually, he must have only seen my roller blades going back and forth with fish blob body attached because there was no downward dog looking, just downward dog avoiding. I did feel the pant, pant, pant of his breath where the top of my rollerblade met my leg.

– Is your dog going to be ok? I yell to the distracted phone couple on my next time around the two mile Metro Beach lap.

– Oh yeah, he’s great. Just a little problem with skate boards and roller blades.

Maybe I should have yelled–“Do you have control of your dog?” instead–because obviously this guy knew his dog’s perspective was extremely limited to whizzing wheels alone and not the human flesh atop them.

Twenty five years rollerblading and I’ve never had a problem with my intrusion into a dog’s field of vision. Never had a reason to even consider what a dog’s limited world view was as I whizzed by. Being leveled to that limited world view caused reason for such consideration. Shoes. Pairs of shoes. Mismatched shoes. Fish blob bodies on top. Sun alternating with shadows on fish blob bodies.

– Breathe through it. Just breathe through it. Man’s voice wafting down from above. Calm. Focusing. Eyes. Pairs of eyes coming into focus at tops of multiple fish blob bodies. I gotta get the watch off, yeah. I don’t want them cutting off the watch.

– Do you want us to call 911? There’s an emergency vehicle outside the park. I just need to radio.

– No…I’m, ok. I can just get up–yep, just get up here and drive–thanks though–yeah we should be fine.

– I just need to get up. I should be able to drive. Airin/Airout/Airin/Airout/Airin/Airout/Airin/Airout. Yeah, this is much faster than I normally experience.

There’s no getting up. Too dizzy. Okay, yeah that’s not happening.

– Ok, yeah. Ummmm…ambulance would be good.

– Lay her back down. Or was it -lay down. Whichever, I am now laying on my back, left arm outstretched.

Air in…Air out

Air in……Air out

Air in…………Air out

Smoother, tolerable. Pain subsides reflecting in hovering sunglassed protectors. No blood. That’s a good sign, or is it?

Perspective changes depending on your level of pain. At its height, you’re only capable of focusing on the fact that you are in pain. Focus then shifts to plans for alleviating pain. Slowly your perspective broadens to your immediate physical environment.

Rollerblades off would be a good thing. It is said and it is done.

Something soft under my head. What is it? How did it get there? And how long has it been there? Light blue backpack. Soft. Nice.

– Who put this here?

– I did. Small voice behind left shoulder. A teenage girl downward looking injured human.

– Oh…thank you. That was sweet.

Dogs whining.

– Oh listen to the dogs, they’re worried about you. And just a minute earlier, it was I who was worried about them. Since roller averse yappy dog, I’d been looking askance at all small dogs, yappy or not. Moving out of these two’s way, I looked over my left shoulder to make sure they were safely on their way. While they were, I was not. I had travelled much farther down the sloping sidewalk than I thought. My rollers were ahead of where my brain, head and body were. Now all were at dog limited world view level.

Lessons learned: Not all dogs are rollerphobic. Allowing past fears to inappropriately alter your future path may result in injury. Wrists, even those who have been perfectly fine feeling the rush of the wind, heat of the sun, brace free for twenty five years–are not made to be broken, but sometimes are. Protective wrist gear was made to be worn even if only called upon once every twenty five years.

Patricia Nemeth received her Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of Michigan (Ann Arbor). She earned her Juris Doctorate and Masters of Labor Law degree from Wayne State University School of Law. She is the founding partner of Nemeth Law, P.C. which is celebrating its 25th Anniversary in 2017. Patricia decided to start a personal blog because she wanted to write about topics other than the law.