And your little dog, too!

So, this is not a post about grief. It's not a post about babies, live or dead. This is not sad MB time.

I.AM. PIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSEEEEEDDDDDDD!!!!!

Let me start by explaining I think there is a special level of hell reserved for people who walk their dogs off-leash. I know, I know, dogs are people too. I get it. I love my dog nearly as much as anyone in our family. He was my baby before the human babies. He's a walker, and needs it. Before E we walked Cosmo at least twice per day. But as a responsible dog parent, it's my job to keep my dog safe from danger.

In our old neighborhood we rarely encountered a dog without a leash. One fateful day--the day after we returned home from Paris, I was taking Cos for a nice long walk, when suddenly we encountered a little pit bull who wanted us for lunch. I was alone and she attacked both of us. Thankfully, after much screaming on my part, a neighbor came out, wrangled the dog to its home, and that was the end of that. Well, at least until C, dehydrated by food poisoning, dragged himself out of bed, went to the dog's house, and had a little, um, CHAT with her owner. We never had a problem again in the old hood.

Flash forward to our new 'hood. So many people round here walk their dogs off-leash. I can almost hear them: "I don't OWN my dog, he's free to choose what he wants to do. Who am I to put him on a leash like a prisoner?"

Um, let me tell you, it IS your fucking job. It's not MY job to keep MY dog from freaking out when YOUR dog runs up to us. Whatever. Often it's just me with the dog and the stroller. Give me a fucking break.

Anyway, usually Cos is fine and the dogs leave us alone. Today, however, we ran into King Douchebag and his royal mutt while out and about. I am, clearly, still enraged by this hipster-pothead-asshole-loser and our exchange. I am, to a fault, non-confrontational, but today I lost my shit. Here it goes.

Scene: Me, E and Cos walking down a side street. A medium-sized dog is on a porch across the street, sees us, and runs over, tail in the air.

Me: (Yelling to ANYONE/SOMEONE/OWNER)"Is your dog on a leash?!"
DB:"No, he's not. Oh, he won't bite."
Me:"Yeah, well my dog doesn't like other dogs running up to him. He gets nervous."
DB:"Well, give your dog a Xanax or something."
Me:"What?"

At this point, the other dog is sniffing Cos and Cos is NOT liking it. We start to walk away.

DB:"That's not my fault."
Me:"You need to keep your dog on a leash."
DB:"This is my house!"
Me:"Yes, but this is a public street and we're on the street."
DB:"Then walk your dog down a different street!"
Me:"IT's called being a responsible dog owner! Grow up! Go smoke some more pot!"

I lost my cool at bit there. At least I didn't swear in front of my son. Clearly, this dick is the kind of guy who has an answer for everything. Know the type? Loser. All he had to do was say, "Hey, sorry!" and leave it at that as soon as we walked by--no further anything. I am so mad--I'm trying not to wish ill will on this piece of trash human.

Ooops, I think I already did.