Stalled on the Devil's Strip

First of all, I must apologize for the closing statement in my last post.
Obviously, it was meant to be:
I have more Bits of Fry and Laurie, etc
The oversight shames me.

And on to the day. Work, and work, you know. Got to spend half my day at one branch and the afternoon at another. No one is quite sure what my purpose is, but everyone agrees I probably have one. Hence, no one speaks too loudly about my complete non-necessity status. What would happen if someone figured out my raison d'etre and I'd been made redundant?

Got home and the Little Gentleman needed an outing. As dogs often do. On my way out of the door I tripped, falling forward as one does, and wrenched the knee. Upon recovery we made our way down the block only to be accosted by the wrath of Pomerian from a house two up and over to the other side of the street. The vicious fluffy black thing came running at us with all force traffic and fates be damned. I had no recourse but to pick up Coupland and try to hold off the w. of P. until we could get over to his yard. His mistress was up in arms and swear at him whilst holding up traffic in the course of crossing the street.
Terrier battle averted we made our way further down the street, where we encountered two big headed dogs at the corner. Speckled big head crossed towards us. I was tired of battling the neighborhood for a leg stretch.
We turned toward home. C. decided then would be a good time for a kip and stretched out on the Devil's Strip. My only recourse was to drag him toward the apartment-belly to the sky and gutteral growling noises emitting from the throat. That dog is certainly not right in the old noodle.

As I write I am half paying attention to a doc on VH-1 about drugs and fighting that beast that is writer's block with a story that I would very much like to write but can't manage to actually put into words.

Oh--and I simply must add--out of curiosity I googled "Devil's Strip" as I have found that many people don't know the term. This strikes a person as quite odd, since it is the most obvious thing in the world-it is the patch of grass that separates the road from the walkway. My google-ing has taught me that the term is an Akron-ism (a phrase that just makes my little linguiphile heart miss several beats with joy). Back home we actually have signs that say "Don't park on the Devil's Strip." Proof from nowhere near Akron. It's such a delicious term, one that conjures images of a demon dancing across the road, a pitchfork in hand, laughing and hindering traffic as he traipses along. Isn't that just lovely?