Why are my clothes and body covered in mud and saliva after my walk, you might ask? Because some freaking dingbat had her untrained dogs out on the street without a freaking leash, that’s why. I watched in horror as she let the smaller of the two run right in front of a freaking oncoming truck. I called to the little guy, who’d stopped in the middle of the street, and he ran to me. I shepherded him back over to his negligent mommy, only to watch in horror again as the larger dog ran into oncoming traffic, followed by his little cohort. Meanwhile, Her Flakiness just watched, dull-eyed and slack-jawed, and did NOTHING to try to stop him.
I don’t usually lose my temper with strangers (at least when I’m not in the car, ahem), but I found myself unable to hold my tongue. After I’d herded them both off the street and into a yard, I just lost it. “Did you see that?!?” I asked her. “They both almost got hit!” She mumbled in that annoying, back-of-the-throat sort of voice so popular with young dingbats these days, “Yeah, they’re all over the place.” Um, you think?!? Then why the freaking frak are they running loose, you vapid frakhead? So I replied, “Do they have a leash? Where is it?!?” I stopped there, as she primly walked away.
Grrr. Maybe there’s a better explanation for what just happened, but I suspect she just isn’t fit to take care of dogs.