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		<title>The Tale of a Dog and a Bicycle</title>
		<link>http://eddmah.wordpress.com/2011/11/07/the-tale-of-a-dog-and-a-bicycle/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Nov 2011 05:41:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>eddmah</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Bicycle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Bowdoin]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Cabin]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[College]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Russian]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://eddmah.wordpress.com/?p=1766</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[When she was just a little girl, my sister Ashleigh would often joke about a dog and a bicycle. Of course, no one else understood why on earth it was so funny. Yet, as fate would have it, I recently &#8230; <a href="http://eddmah.wordpress.com/2011/11/07/the-tale-of-a-dog-and-a-bicycle/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=eddmah.wordpress.com&amp;blog=4994333&amp;post=1766&amp;subd=eddmah&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align:justify;">When she was just a little girl, my sister Ashleigh would often joke about a dog and a bicycle. Of course, no one else understood why on earth it was so funny. Yet, as fate would have it, I recently found myself dealing with yet another story about a dog and a bicycle. The joke this time though, is that said dog may very well have played a role in defining my college experience thus far.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I first heard this story while on my pre-orientation trip back in August. One starry night, after a fill of campfire games, guitar sing-alongs, and too much cheese, we all lay snuggly in our log cabin, tucked into our sleeping bags. It was the perfect setting for story telling. One girl, Shelby, told the story of how earlier in the summer, she had been riding her bike and had hit a dog, resulting in the dislocation of her shoulder. At the time, compared to some of the other stories about concussions, lactose-related fears, and close encounters with the cops, the dog story wasn&#8217;t that extraordinary. What I didn&#8217;t realize at the time, however, was that it was only because of that dislocated shoulder that Shelby has come on the cabin trip instead of going whitewater rafting.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">The next week, during orientation, I went to a meeting in the languages building to get the results of the Spanish language placement test I had taken earlier in the summer. I had no intention of furthering my education in &#8220;la idioma español&#8221; but I went for my results anyway. After the meeting however, I walked past the Russian information session and who should I find there but Shelby! I walked in just to say hello and ended up leaving with an inspiration to take a shot at learning Russian.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">A few days later, I turned in my course sign-up card and classes began. Lo and behold, not only was Shelby in my Russian class but also a guy named Luke who I had spoken to briefly over the summer, and who was also in my first-year seminar. I didn&#8217;t know it at the time, but even amongst the hosts of great people around me, Luke and Shelby would turn out to be two of my closest friends at Bowdoin College and allies in the endeavour to &#8220;хорошо говорить по-русски&#8221;.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I salute that dog. Not only for walking away unharmed from the incident, but for helping set me on a golden path in college; one walked by amazing friends, a fiery professor with a Kazak whip, and a new interest that may lead to great experiences, travel, and who knows, maybe even a major or minor&#8230;</p>
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