UnpleasantlySexy

I found this great dog park near our house the other day, and Julia and I have taken Tula there both yesterday and today. It's great! There are several places to get your feet wet in a running creek while dogs frolic around you all the livelong day. Of course, this would not be blogworthy material if there weren't a dark side to it.

I thought I was a "dog person". I love dogs. Dogs are so frikkin' great. Yay dogs.

Noooooooooo-ope. Now that I have experienced Dog People in their natural habitat, I can proudly say that I am, without a doubt, not a dog person. At least, not in the literal sense, like some of THESE folks. Call me crazy, but when I go out with my dog, I worry a bit about her behavior around strangers. I don't want her to jump up on anybody, and I sure as heck don't want her to be aggressive with any other dogs.

Apparently, I don't need to worry about this at all. The Dog People have taught me that, in order to achieve true dog understanding...dog-mindedness...to be dog-literate, if you will, I only have to follow three basic steps:

1) Let the dog off the leash.

2) Pop open a beer, flip open the cell-phone and wander off, completely failing to pay any further attention to my punk-ass pit bull.

3) Peer down my nose at any dogs or dog owners who come near me, because I am better/more important/stronger/faster/more attractive than they are, despite the facts that (a)I am wearing a 15-year old "Big Johnson" T-shirt, (b)my cut-off shorts are torn just enough that you can kinda tell I'm not wearing underwear, (c)and I just peed about twenty feet upstream of you.

If I follow these simple guidelines, people may actually mistake me for Gandhi himself.


They are beautiful, these Dog People in the mist...uh, I mean, pee-water.