Friday, May 13, 2011

The Second Sleepover & Andy Wasn't Invited

A few days later, I invited Abby to go downtown but not Andy. I’d be damned if I was going to have him shitting and peeing all over my place. My mom did not do a great job disciplining Andy’s poor housetraining habits. I did spank Andy the day he peed on my rug. Besides, Andy was my mom’s dog and Abby mine. This was the way it was supposed to be.

Abby trotted through the kitchen and towards the door. Andy tried to follow behind her. I stopped him. He looked up at me quizically. He didn’t know why he could not go. I kept him at bay and closed the door. I looked through the window and saw him sulking. He hung his head down and went back to the den.

Later that night, I took Abby for a walk downtown. No one was there except towards the end of the walk when I saw three people and an unleashed Great Dane. The dog came straight towards me and Abby. I tried to get between them, but the dog persisted on visiting Abby. I was pissed. I fucking hate irresponsible dog owners who will not leash their dogs when others are around. I especially hate it when the dog owner makes no attempt to control his dog.

So, here was Abby with a huge fucking dog looming over her. I could only imagine what was going through her baby-girl head. I know if a 7ft son-of-a-bitch was standing over me, I’d want to knock his ass out. The dog clearly postured over Abby. I know some will say he was ‘playing’ but that is bullshit. Abby was trapped. She snapped at the dog. The little bastard who owned the dog did nothing. I then yelled at him to get his dog off of mine. Damned if he didn’t mouth off and had the nerve to say that my dog was the one who snapped at his. Things were at Defcon 4.

I yelled at the guy. Finally, he and the others got control of the dog and walked down the street. When they were safely away, the twerp started mouthing off at me. He was a northern transplant. He had a nasally New York/Long Island accent, making him that much more irritating. That accent is like nails on a chalkboard. People from Long Island do not lose their accents no matter where they relocate to and for how long. If he was going to mouth-off, it was good he waited until he got out of arm’s reach. I am almost certain I would have shoved him. I didn’t want to go to jail for his punk-ass, but when it came to my baby-girl, I was a little over-protective. Fortunately, I never saw this guy again after that night.

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