I need some advice. But before telling you about my problem, you need to know that I was born without the dog caring gene. As a result I am one of the very few people in Oak Park that doesn’t like dogs. I’ve always been this way. When Old Yeller died, I was sad–just not that sad. When a friend’s dog licks my hand I wonder if this is one of the dogs that eats his feces. It is not easy going through life acting like you don’t hate dogs.
So here’s my quandry. I’m walking east on Lexington near Kenilworth early morning returning from the YMCA. It is dark. I’m preoccupied thinking about whether a Hooter’s would be a good fit for the Comcast space when a giant four footed black animal crashes into the fence with a guttural roar that scares me to death. At first I think it’s a panther or a demon escaped from the gates of hell, but I’m pretty sure it was a giant black dog. it scared me to death.Surely there are other walkers and runners who have been similiarly almost attacked.
So what if anything should I do about this? I thought about coming back and tossing a grenade into the yard, but there’s the problem of collateral damage, and it is difficult to find grenades unless you’re willing to travel to Montana or attend a Tea Party rally.
I could talk to the owners and politely request that they chain their attack dog in the basement, but I already know that they won’t do that.
I suppose I could just avoid the house on my way home from the YMCA, but as a homo sapien I’m higher on the food chain, and it just annoys me that I’ve been bested by a stupid dog. I think of Neville Chamberlain, the British Prime Minister who conceded the Sudetenland to Hitler in 1938. Perhaps conceding Lexington and Kenilworth is only the beginning. Appeasement is not good policy.
My actual response of the f-bomb followed by ” I hope you die” in hindsight seems a little crazy, if for no other reason than the dog probably didn’t get it although I did say it loud enough that hopefully his masters did hear me.
Life is filled with difficult choices.