Exploding Pants

I've not written a post in a while, mainly because I'm antsy and in a state of immobility in my personal life, which makes it hard to concentrate on anything other than self pity. Regardless of that, I have a short story to tell...
So - I adopted from the Humane Society a chocolate lab for my grandmother. She is awesome (the dog, that is, although my grandmother is pretty awesome as well). She had to stay with me for a day or so, and so I spent most of the time with her outside getting to know her. She's apparently trained, and knows commands and walks on a leash (which is of no use to my grandmother on a farm). I took the book I was reading outside, and sat down to enjoy the oddly mild summer day in the normally sweltering heat of Tennessee. Zoie (the dog), lay in the grass beside of me, and I was pretty sure she wouldn't run if I let the leash go, but just in case...I attached the lease to my belt loop.
There have been times in my life that I have done things, knowing the outcome, and the possibility of harm to myself, yet done them anyway, but I shunned this thought because the dog was so damned sweet, and why would she run? I latched the leash to my pants, and continued to read. After a few minutes, I looked up and saw a small beagle walk by. Zoie, luckily, was asleep and didn't see the dog, and I shooed it away. I continued to read for about five minutes, and then the expected unexpected occurred. The beagle was back, and this time Zoie saw it. The next four or five seconds were a little fuzzy, but I remember this: As Zoie ran, I watch the long leash unravel from the ground, and oh fuck no - the leash is attached to my pants. I go to grab the leash, but too late, it slips through my fingers, and then I hear the ripping noise as my pants go with it. I swear to god, I think my pants exploded - even the zipper and button came off - I'm not sure how or why, but they did. But this was not my worst nightmare in this scenario - I was more afraid that the dog would run off and never come back like that scene in "Funny Farm". I ran across the street, not even looking for traffic, with pants hanging around my knees and ankles and ripped to shreds... then I realize something is wet in my hands - apparently grabbing on to a leash that is attached to a 40 lb dog that is running at top speed is not the best of ideas, and if you do this, most likely it will rip the skin off of your fingers, which it did indeed do. The leash also had some sort of spring device on the end, and so as that went through my fingers, it basically ripped tiny chunks of flesh out of my hands, and it looks like I cut my fingers through with a rusty saw. So there I am, standing in the middle of the street, only a small amount of pants attached to my body, blood dripping down onto the cement, but goddammit, that dog came back. She knew I was pissed, and followed me back to the house whimpering. Needless to say, I screamed for about an hour as my skinned hands were burning, and I had to keep them in ice water which does not feel so good on the dermis layer of the skin. I have no idea if any of the neighbors saw me as I stood in the middle of the street screaming at the dog, then screaming because of my hands, and then tripping back up the driveway in a pair of jeans that I would have liked to have stayed intact. I think next time I'll try to listen to that tiny voice in my head that tells me my ideas are pretty fucking stupid. Yeah.