today i was walking the jack-pug, and we were told off by by a man outside an apartment building.
he began his tirade with a smile and a hello, which, in retrospect, makes me angry because i did not equate the smile with potential hostility. i get lots of friendly comments and hellos from people when i'm with the jack-pug. he's a quirky looking little guy. and he was sniffing around, as dogs tend to do.
"i saw you this morning," said the man. (switching gears, now that he's got me all unsuspecting.) "you were on the grass. it's private property. there's a sign."
there is a sign, yes, at the front of the building, behind a fence. i do not take the jack-pug behind the fence. indeed, i do not take the jack-pug onto people's gardens or flower patches. and should i even have to say it, i pick up his poo, neatly, in bags.
"we didn't even come this way this morning!" i said, stung by the surprise attack. (actually, we may have. ooops.)
the patch of grass in question lies parallel to the sidewalk. i have yet to see a dog pass by it without stopping to sniff. it runs along the sidewalk for about half a block, and it's about ten feet deep. on the other side? a fence. beyond which is the apartment building.
so here is my narcissistic, excuse-making rant. i have no excuse for it except that i am, all out of proportion, hurt by this. why the fuck, angry apartment dude, are you so pissed off, pun intended, about dog pee? digging, i can understand. leaving piles of crap, i can understand. but what the hell bothers you so much about my twenty-pound dog treading on your precious, mangy stretch of unkempt ground to lift his leg and deposit a quarter-teaspoon of pee? and if it bothers you so much, so very much, so much that you have to stand there and wait for a recognizable dog to come by just so you can harangue the owner, why don't you move the fence so your holy ground doesn't look like public property?