Dogs in the Street

If you know me, you will know right away that my Achilles' Heel involves anything related to animals getting hurt. I would do anything to help an animal. My friend Michelle and I once tried to wrangle two scary pit bulls that were lost. Even though that ended up with Michelle using me as a human shield with me nearly getting eaten while screaming, "Make yourself look big!" I would definitely do that again. Maybe because I'm a glutton for punishment, but that's a different post. 

I wrote this in my writing-journal after a typical experience with one of my wacky neighbors: 

People should have to get a license to own animals.

Upon arriving home from happy hour yesterday, a neighborhood dog was standing in the middle of the street, eating something that might have been Taco Bell, but nonetheless unidentifiable. I know where this dog lives because I’ve returned the poor guy no less than three other times. I assumed that the dog was some sort of ninja, scaling fences and digging secret tunnels to freedom. Yesterday, however, I pulled my car over and called to the dog. He was doing that weird tail-wagging, barking, "maybe I’ll lick you or maybe I’ll bite you" thing so I kept my distance. As I was coaxing the potentially vicious mutt out of the middle of the street, a young teenage girl drove wildly down the street, swerving her car around, tires screeching. We made eye contact; I know she saw me standing there doing the Stray Mutt Shuffle. 

Slowing down would have been much too inconvenient, I agree.

Meanwhile, the dog has decided NOT to eat my arm but still won’t move out of the street. I turn and face the direction of the house I know belongs to the dog. I see a shadow lurking in the front window. Most of you know eyesight isn't really my thing, so I wasn't sure if I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. Then I realize I was not mistaken: The owner is watching me! Just standing there, watching me try to keep her dog from getting run over! I call to her –hey! Isn’t this your dog?- Even though I know full well it IS her dog because I’ve done this several times before. She hollers back, “yeah, he’s nice. Don’t worry” To which I said “Yes, but he is IN THE STREET lady! Do you want to get him?” To which she nonchalantly replies, “I suppose that’s not the best place for him, but he was happy there so…” as she burdened herself with her pet’s retrieval I got back into my car and thought to myself “Please, please lady…don’t procreate!”