Scolded
You know it's a bad day when you've been scolded twice in one day before 11 a.m.--for two things that weren't even your fault.
Scold #1:
Casey and I headed out for a walk. It was sunny, so I was feeling good. Instead of steering her toward home near the end of our typically 20-minute trek, I decided to let her go over and sniff around the park near my house--where several of my neighbors let their dogs run free and play.
Almost as soon as we had walked up, a standard poodle jumped on Casey and started attacking her. Since she was leashed, she couldn't get away. Then a doberman came over and pinned her. Casey was crying pitifully, and I was trying to shoo the dogs away. Finally their owners called them off and Casey was left standing there, cowering and crying. My heart nearly broke as she whimpered, and I tried to readjust her lead.
A large shadow loomed over me, and as I inspected Casey's fur for puncture wounds, his gruff voice filtered down to me: "It would be better if you would let her off leash."
"I can't," I said, annoyed.
"Oh," he said, "It's just that my dog gets scared by leashes." I was so worried about Casey that at the time, it didn't even register in my head that this asshole was actually trying to blame ME for the fact that HIS (illegally off-leash) dog attacked mine for simply walking onto the perimeter of a public park.
I looked up at him. "Your dog wasn't scared," I said, "she just jumped on mine and attacked her." Walking away, as I realized that he hadn't even asked if Casey was OK, I had the urge to turn around and give him a piece of my mind. But I didn't; I figured it would be better for both the dog and me to just go home. (Casey got a couple of extra cookies out of the deal.)
Scold #2:
I decided to run some errands before class this morning. I found a parking spot uptown, and after purchasing some books, I decided to go grab a chai and a muffin at Starbucks. I ordered my drink and headed for the tables by the window looking out onto the street. As I turned around, there was a little boy underfoot, probably around 2 or so. I smiled at him, and walked over to an open table along the wall and near to the window.
As soon as I set my stuff down, the little boy began screaming. His mother tried to shush him. I looked up to see what the commotion was about, and he was pointing at ME and screaming, walking toward me at rapid toddler speed.
His mother was trying to redirect him, saying "It's ok, we'll sit here, this table is fine, it's OK..."
I realized that I had sat down at the table he intended to sit at. I looked up at the woman and immediately gathered my stuff. After spending a few days with my nephew (who is about the same age), I've learned that you just can't reason with a person who doesn't even come up to your knees.
"I'll move, it's OK," I said, as I headed over to the next table over.
She was able to get the little boy (who was still screaming) to take the table. As he climbed up in the chair and sipped his juice box, he was still sobbing. Finally, after a few minutes, the crying died down. I looked over at him, and he glared at me, bottom lip protuding poutily. Juice box in one hand, he pointed his finger at the comfy chair next to him.
"I wanted to sit there," he said grumpily.
I shrugged at him and gave him my most sympathetic look possible; he continued to glare.
So dogs and babies, things I'm usually pretty good at entertaining, and I've already gotten into two tangles in one day. What a way to start a new quarter!
Scold #1:
Casey and I headed out for a walk. It was sunny, so I was feeling good. Instead of steering her toward home near the end of our typically 20-minute trek, I decided to let her go over and sniff around the park near my house--where several of my neighbors let their dogs run free and play.
Almost as soon as we had walked up, a standard poodle jumped on Casey and started attacking her. Since she was leashed, she couldn't get away. Then a doberman came over and pinned her. Casey was crying pitifully, and I was trying to shoo the dogs away. Finally their owners called them off and Casey was left standing there, cowering and crying. My heart nearly broke as she whimpered, and I tried to readjust her lead.
A large shadow loomed over me, and as I inspected Casey's fur for puncture wounds, his gruff voice filtered down to me: "It would be better if you would let her off leash."
"I can't," I said, annoyed.
"Oh," he said, "It's just that my dog gets scared by leashes." I was so worried about Casey that at the time, it didn't even register in my head that this asshole was actually trying to blame ME for the fact that HIS (illegally off-leash) dog attacked mine for simply walking onto the perimeter of a public park.
I looked up at him. "Your dog wasn't scared," I said, "she just jumped on mine and attacked her." Walking away, as I realized that he hadn't even asked if Casey was OK, I had the urge to turn around and give him a piece of my mind. But I didn't; I figured it would be better for both the dog and me to just go home. (Casey got a couple of extra cookies out of the deal.)
Scold #2:
I decided to run some errands before class this morning. I found a parking spot uptown, and after purchasing some books, I decided to go grab a chai and a muffin at Starbucks. I ordered my drink and headed for the tables by the window looking out onto the street. As I turned around, there was a little boy underfoot, probably around 2 or so. I smiled at him, and walked over to an open table along the wall and near to the window.
As soon as I set my stuff down, the little boy began screaming. His mother tried to shush him. I looked up to see what the commotion was about, and he was pointing at ME and screaming, walking toward me at rapid toddler speed.
His mother was trying to redirect him, saying "It's ok, we'll sit here, this table is fine, it's OK..."
I realized that I had sat down at the table he intended to sit at. I looked up at the woman and immediately gathered my stuff. After spending a few days with my nephew (who is about the same age), I've learned that you just can't reason with a person who doesn't even come up to your knees.
"I'll move, it's OK," I said, as I headed over to the next table over.
She was able to get the little boy (who was still screaming) to take the table. As he climbed up in the chair and sipped his juice box, he was still sobbing. Finally, after a few minutes, the crying died down. I looked over at him, and he glared at me, bottom lip protuding poutily. Juice box in one hand, he pointed his finger at the comfy chair next to him.
"I wanted to sit there," he said grumpily.
I shrugged at him and gave him my most sympathetic look possible; he continued to glare.
So dogs and babies, things I'm usually pretty good at entertaining, and I've already gotten into two tangles in one day. What a way to start a new quarter!
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