There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


Aren't neighbors great?

So, last weekend we were walking my two bad dogs , and the dogs were sniffing at a tree in front of a house. There was a car parked near the house, and all of a sudden, a voice comes booming out of the house or the car -- it was impossible to tell which. We thought that maybe it was an old-style car alarm from the "Danger Will Robinson" era of car alarms, telling the dogs to "Step away from the vehicle!" So we all stood there looking kind of dumbfounded (because we were), two people and two dogs with confused looks on their faces.

Then this guy (we will call him Carl in homage to Aqua Teen Hunger Force)comes barreling out of the front door, dressed in boxers and nothing else. And he didn't have the body to be in his driveway in boxers. And he starts yelling at me to get the dogs away from his house.

This called for some kind of snappy retort, but I didn't really have one, so I just said, "They're not doing anything." He didn't like that kind of sass from a woman, so he yelled some more. I considered tossing the bag of warm, freshly-pooped dog crap at him, but I was pretty sure I'd trip on a leash during the getaway, so we just left.

I'm thinking of some kind of revenge involving dog poop, but that's as far as the planning has gotten.

Someday, Carl, and soon.

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