If you’ve met me, you probably don’t remember. I’m pretty see-through. Not because of my paper-white skin, but because I probably didn’t look you in the eye, or, you know, say anything.
I’m not exactly outgoing.
So why do I turn into a screaming freak when someone lets their (illegally) unleashed dog bound up into my (legally leashed) dogs’ faces?
Maybe because my sweet little Annie has been leaped onto repeatedly by unleashed dogs.
It is also now an issue for Scotty, my bouncy, bouncy toddler dog. I have had to use a halter for him in order to control his youthfully spastic outbursts without throwing out my back. Since it is a special head halter, this leaves him with less control over his own head motions, which is fine until he gets spooked by something LIKE YOUR DAMN DOG, YOU IDIOT. Then he starts to panic and tries to pull out of it by backing up wildly. THANKS, ASSHAT.
See? I’m starting all over again. I actually screamed at a jogger this morning from across the park (whose dog was, naturally, on the other side of the park, in my dogs’ faces) “WHAT THE HELL? IS THIS YOUR DOG?” When she (rather dimly) admitted it was, I yelled, “WHERE’S HIS LEASH?” When she pulled it out of her pocket, I couldn’t help myself, “OH, IN YOUR POCKET. GREAT!”
That is not me yelling. I don’t yell at people. So who possesses me? Jan, the Great Lioness Mother Goddess? Whoever it is, she has a major problem with anger control.
And she's making no friends at the park.