I love dogs. We're still terribly heartbroken about the passing of our 12 year dog earlier in the year. I've had dogs as pets since being three months old.
What I don't love are many dog owners.
I don't care if your dog is a soppy git who's never harmed a fly, I still don't want it jumping up at me or my children. If you see people coming towards you, call your dog to heel an put it's lead on, if it has crap recall skills, come an bloody get your mutt and put it's lead on, do not smile an continue strolling past half heartily calling your dogs name whilst it patently ignores you. It's called responsible dog ownership. Not everyone is a dog person, some people may be scared of your friendly waggy Fido. I don't let my children randomly launch themselves at strangers and I expect the same courtesy when it comes to your dogs.
Oh and when your dog shits, pick it up. Yes the poo, not the dog.
There's a large property that has been vacant for some time locally, seemingly permanently up for sale for the past 6 years that is until recently. It would appear that once again Homes Under The Hammer has a lot to answer for as yet another syndicate of wannabe property developers decide to descend. One of which is a woman, bottle blonde with a shiny expensive car who swans up the lane like she owns the area, playing skittles, with the local pedestrians being the actual skittles as she swerve too wide and too fast around the bend. don't worry I'm sure the badge an hubcaps will soon disappear courtesy of the local teenage welcoming committee.
So this woman, she has a dog. I'm not at all breedist, some of the nicest dogs I've met have been so-called dangerous breeds yet for the sake of detail, it's a Rottweiler (incidentally my niece had two adorable Rotties, soft as shit) So picture a nice sunny day as myself and all three spawn are meandering peacefully up the tree line road that The Spawn christened 'The Tree Tunnel' long ago when suddenly a large, salivating, growling dog launches itself out of wasteland and towers over us on the dry stone wall with a stance of utter menace. I admit my heart momentarily stopped, paralysed with fear. Fighting the urge to scream and run, my mind had but one agenda. My babies. No fucker furry or not threatens my babies. Two reasons not to show fear 1) If I look like i'm bricking it The Spawn will take the cue and fall to pieces 2) Angry animals respond to fear. So up went The Toddler on my hip as I steadily tell the children we're going a different way and not to run (whilst inwardly my brain wibbles 'pleasedon'tchaseuspleasedon'tchaseus') knowing that running an showing fear would dramatically increase the chances of this hellpooch chasing us and also asking them not to look back, o not stare at the dog. I blithely witter in in faux cheer that that poor doggy looks a bit upset so we're going to go a different way, whilst mentally plotting which strangers door to throw ourselves at should we get chased.
The five minute walk felt like five years yet as we neared the top BITCH1 calls lazily out her tinted car window 'Have you seen a Rottweiler anywhere?' .. 'Sure. It just tried to devour my children, it's down there' did she look concerned? worried? apologetic? grateful? did she hell as like. She just drove off. Well fuck you very much too.
So what happened a week or so later when The Husband was out with the Spawn? You guessed it, exactly the same thing only no appearance of the owner this time. Some people never learn.
The result? The Toddler is now obsessed with 'mean doggies' and even woke up in the middle of the night petrified that there was the Mean Doggy in his bed. Thing One and Thing Two lie awake thinking about it and are too scared to go past the wall on their own anymore. They're becoming increasingly wary of all dogs now regardless of size, shape and demeanor despite the fact they had a dog all their lives until this year, the goofiest, softest dog ever.
All because of one selfish, irresponsible dog owner.