While driving to Hanley, Inc. today I was waiting at a four-way intersection when I saw a dog stop on somebody’s lawn and poop. There was nobody around at all and the dog seemed very anxious. It was a cocker spaniel, which is a fairly high strung breed of canine, and I have to admit that if I was defecating on a stranger’s front lawn I’d be in a big hurry, too. However, this dog was squatting and craning its neck as if desperately looking for somebody. Perhaps the person who should’ve been next to the dog with a leash in one hand and a plastic bag in the other?
As I slowly moved forward I followed the dog’s gaze and noticed a woman on a bicycle about a block ahead of us. I lowered the car’s passenger side window as I pulled up alongside of her and yelled, “Is that your dog back there?” She kind of glanced over her shoulder and said, “Yup!” I responded, “You know there’s a leash law, right?” She didn’t respond, as if I suddenly started speaking an unintelligible language. I tried again. “Your dog should be on a leash!” Again, no response. The dog had now caught up with us and there about three cars crawling along behind me, but I didn’t care. “If you need a leash for your dog, I’ll give you one,” I offered.
She stopped peddling. She got me there. I wasn’t about to hit the brakes and have the cars behind me slam into my bumper at five miles per hour. Instead I eased off the gas and fired my final salvo: “Your dog crapped on somebody else’s lawn! You suck!”