Stranger than Yippy

This morning's bike ride was a little unnerving. It wasn't exactly scary, but something was definitely fishy. Let me explain:

Your lack of sympathy for Mr. Yippy encouraged me, so this morning on my bike ride I set out determined to stand my ground against the pesky dog. My first lap past the dog brought him racing to my side as usual. This time I was already moving pretty fast so I just swerved a bit and left Mr. Yippy in the dust. But the second time around I knew the pest would be waiting for me. The original plan was to nail him with the pepper spray, but as I got closer I chickened out. I saw the video of Terence getting sprayed by that stuff in the police academy, you see, and I just couldn't bring myself to do that to the dog. (It was an eye opener to watch Terence try to force his eyes open with one hand and hold his gun steady with the other, all while shouting-- in a very high pitched, wavering voice-- for his pretend assailant to get down on the ground.) Anyway, I finally resolved that if Mr. Yippy got too close to me, I'd just kick the little nuisance. Yes, I'm strange that way. I can't bear to pepper spray him, but kick him in the head? Sure, no problem.

To my complete unsurprise, he darted out and headed straight for me. True to my resolve, I kicked out when he got too close. I wildly missed, but it was probably in my favor to have my leg swinging out like that because he missed me too. Hey, as long as he didn't nip me, it's good.

I continued on my normal route until I reached the farthest end of my loop. This is also the most deserted section-- the road is lined by empty lots, victims of the housing crash. There is nothing out here, and no reason for anyone to drive out there. (Yes, this was the scene of the freaky dude incident.) Well, this morning I saw headlights heading toward me on this road, which immediately put me on my guard. It didn't make any sense for anyone to be driving that way (especially at 5 am), and it made even less sense when the truck drew closer. It was clearly one of the local farm trucks, and the driver was a vaguely familiar Hispanic male who stared openly at me as he passed. He didn't stop or even slow down, just stared. Odd.

As I continued on my route back into an inhabited part of the development I looked back to see that the truck had turned onto the wrong road, at least if the driver was planning to head back out of the development. He seemed a little unfamiliar with the layout. Even odder. What was this man doing out here?

As I headed back onto the main road, his vague familiarity clicked for me and I realized he came from Mr. Yippy's home. That made me wary. I could see that he had finally figured a way out of the empty development roads back onto the main road a half a block ahead of me, and I mentally started trying to frame sentences in my rusty Spanish. I could remember how to say "Your dog bites," but I was stuck when it came to "If your dog bites me I'm going to call animal control," or "If your dog bites me I'm going to sue you."

After I had ridden another half a mile, I watched him back his truck in front of the trailer so he would be facing the road. That was even stranger. I pass this place all the time, and the truck is never parked like that.

Did he see my attempt to kick his dog and try to track me down? If so, why didn't he say anything when he passed? Did he want to apologize for his dog trying to hunt me every time I ride by? No apology necessary, just lock the stupid mutt up! Or did he have some more sinister motive?

Try as I might, I can't explain his behavior. There was just nothing normal about it. What do you think?