what are the chances, i exit the dr. office after another cry-jag breakdown, to find a hysterical screaming woman chasing her dog in and out of the street.
the dog thinks she’s playing — arms-flailing chase-time — since the park is right there. traffic is only half stopping & i’m thinking happy-thoughts as i’m trying to slowly approach the dog to calm it down.
the dog, btw, is huge, fluffy-fun gorgeous black-brown-bernard-collie weirdness. idk, i’m a cat person, but it’s still pretty.
But i eventually can get a good hold of the collar under the fluff, the dog is chill on the sidewalk. as the woman is still frantically trying to attach the leash, i ask ‘you got it?’
the only thing she says to me is: 'don’t pet my dog.’
i’m still a bit numb in general, but i just quietly reply, ‘i just didn’t wanna see him hurt’…
she just walked away, with her happily oblivious, alive-for-now canine.
can’t take this shit personally, & i get it, she wants ‘bad dog, no reward.’
but goddamn, seriously, why today…?
if i had a do-over, i’d prolly tell her she didn’t deserve the dog, and kindly advise her to put the leash on before opening the car door on the street. maybe a sweetly whispered, ‘fuck you’ would have been fine.
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