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the Dog Days of Summer
Stubbs and I go to the dog park at least twice a day. He has sniffed every inch and left his mark indelibly. I figured it'd be nice to have a change in scenery.
Yesterday, we jumped in the car and headed to a dog park on the south side of town. Approaching the intersection of Barton Springs and Robert E. Lee, I passed a convertible, top down, with a large poodle hanging off the driver's seat while the car was in motion. The owner, a middle-aged man wearing a Polo, had one hand on the wheel and the other on the dog's collar. I wrinkled my nose - what is this guy thinking?
The light turned red and I came to a stop. The convertible pulled up beside me. The driver’s dog, still attempting to exit the vehicle, saw Stubbs and made a more concerted effort. Breaking free, it propelled the upper part of its body through my passenger-side window, which was half open.
Stubbs broke out in fight mode and bent back to paw off the intruder. I panicked and thought to startle the dog by tapping on the "up" window button, encouraging it to back out. Yeah, genius move. The pressure proved too much and the window, emitting a strange grinding sound, fell down into the door. I reached out, but not fast enough; his dog hit the side of my car head first and disappeared from view.
Ordering Stubbs into the back seat, I jumped out, ran around and knelt beside the poodle. Shaking its head, it rolled over playfully and gave me a lopsided grin - no permanent damage done. At this point, the driver finally felt the need to act, strangely enough, by yelling at me.
"What did your dog do?!"
I had no response. I was dumbfounded. What did my dog do?
I began politely, "Sir, I imagine the cars lined up behind us would like us to hurry this along, but before we get to that, I really think you should take a moment and reexamine your ability to care for a pet."
He glared at me. I paused. Nothing happened.
"I mean, look at this! Of the two of us, why am I the one holding your dog? Can you help me out here?"
He grabbed the poodle’s collar and man-handled the dog into the convertible. Without another word, he slammed shut his car door and peeled off. I was still dumbfounded. And windowless. Blech.
I got back behind the wheel, momentarily facing the wrath of rush hour traffic, and pulled off at the soccer fields just short of the park. Stubbs looked at me with those damnable puppy eyes and whined as if he understood what I was about to say. "No park today, doggie. Now...all we need is some rain!"
For how small it is, my mouth is way too big for my face.
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