30 April 2008

If Looks Could Kill

So, my dog is a little jumpy, right? Whether it's my fault or his genetics, I don't know, though I suspect it's a little of both, because there were a lot of very loud "NOs" when he was a puppy and the breed is known for being shy of strangers who aren't part of their pack.

Atticus and I were out for his morning constitutional this morning, and just after he'd finished his dookie in the street by the curb and had moved up onto the sidewalk to await his reward, this woman and her two kids come strolling down the street. And one little girl – couldn't have been more than six or seven years old – suddenly starts jumping up and down toward Atticus, shouting, "LOOK A DOGGIE! LOOK A DOGGIE! LOOK A DOGGIE!"

Not surprisingly, Atticus nearly does to himself what he's just done in the street, and starts spazzing out in an effort to get away from the crazy little maniac bearing down on him; and he's – again, not very surprisingly – freaking out even more 'cuz he's tethered to me by the leash and rapidly shorting how far he can run because he's circling me and tying us both up.

I must have given that child a look that would have boiled water, 'cuz the mother let out the most obviously nervous laugh I've ever heard, and snatched the child away from my cowering dog as I extricated myself and continued to glare.

I'm kinda well known among my friends for being able to clearly communicate what I'm trying to say without ever opening my mouth, and in this case, I was supremely effective.

Not, of course, that the woman will make any effort to ride herd on her obnoxious, rampant, privileged brood.

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