Well, first, my wife and I go walking the dogs over at the local high school. In addition to Rotor, our rat terrier that I walk 3 miles every morning, we’re taking care of Rosie, my brother-in-law’s boston terrier, while he’s trying to sell his house.
We’ve taken care of her before. While she’s protective when someone knocks on the door, she’s never been a problem over at the park running off leash. I’m so used to letting Rotor run around without keeping too close an eye on him that I let my guard down. Before I know it, I hear a noise and see a woman crouched over holding her hand, with Rosie hanging by her teeth from the woman’s jacket.
There’s a fair amount of blood, and a finger wound that will likely require stitches. Damn! In such a situation, there’s nothing for a real person to do other than just be as helpful as possible. I ran to get my car and drove the woman the several blocks to her house. What great fun, looking her strapping teenage son and husband square in the eye. But you do what you ought to do, and you don’t give it a second thought. The woman, her son and husband were all very calm and reasonable. In other words, though a serious situation, they were not blowing it out of proportion. I appreciated that.
It’s not my dog that attacked, and I’d personally never own a dog that attacks without clear provocation (I may never dogsit for one again, either). Still, that’s little consolation, for me. This dog has bitten before (a UPS guy making a delivery—very minor bite). Though I wasn’t around, I knew of the previous incident and should damn well have been more circumspect. On the other hand, sometimes shit just happens and you do the best you can with it.
But if this all wasn’t enough, Bea & I then head over to the local Original Pancake House for a late breakfast. There’s a wait. Once we’re called, Bea & I get up and head directly over to the counter. There’s a bit of a crowd milling about, but no one bumping into one-another.
But just as I get to the counter, some 260 lb. fathead with a girl of about 2 yrs. approaches me and says, “You ought to watch where you’re going. You almost knocked my daughter over.” Almost? I hadn’t touched a soul, and I had not behaved in any fashion reasonably likely to result in harm to anyone. This guy wanted to pick a fight, or to show off in front of his wife or girlfriend, or whatever. But it had nothing in the world to do with me.
Well, I don’t envy telling an organism to Fuck Off in front of its offspring (because she’s still human), but I really had little choice. I was dealing with an irrational wild animal walking on two legs and pretending to be a human being. When you’re dealing with such creatures as that, there’s no way to have any confidence about what they’ll do next. You can reasonably assume that human beings will act predictably, wich is to say rationally, but when you encounter a wild animal, you need to watch yourself, and in this case, my only course of action was to send a clear signal that I was not going to be trifled with.
On the way out of the restaurant, for the first time in five years of living in this neighborhood, a panhandler hits me up for money.
As I said: a bizarro day.