My brother was over last weekend, as is often the case on weekends. It was Saturday night, and it was dark out. We were getting ready to take my dog Kale for a walk around the neighborhood, and Brent decided to go outside to wait on us. As soon as he stepped outside, there was an old man walking his dog that quickly snapped at him to come over so he could ask him a question. His tone and body language put my brother on the defensive, but since he was an old man, he walked over to see what he wanted.
The old man didn't want to ask a question. It turns out he wanted to make a statement. You see, Kale stays in our garage when it is cold outside, and we walk him a few times a day and play with him inside the garage where it is warm and cozy. In the summertime he has our backyard to roam around and play in, and when the weather is bad he has his kennel in the garage. We rent, and dogs are not allowed inside. Plus he's a big, dumb, smelly, mutt. Pretty much the most perfect furry friend imaginable.
Well, as you may have already figured out, the old man didn't like this. Or, I should say, he didn't like that Kale stays in the garage. He didn't know any of the other things, or the fact that I work nights, so most of Kale's play time is after dark and before I go to work. Basically whenever this guy isn't walking by my house.
He proceeded to tell Brent how cruel it is to have him locked up in the garage when there are people at home, because every single time he walks his dog by our house he hears him barking. He kept using the word "cruel" like a weapon of self righteousness.
Brent argued that the man was making assumptions based on facts he didn't have, and asked how the man knew the inside of garage wasn't a palace. He asked him what he did with his dog when he wasn't at home. His response was that he let's his dog roam freely throughout their home, and that's what any real animal lover would and should do. Then he said he was simply showing concern as an animal lover. Brent told him to wait right there, while he went to get me so he could say all of this to my face.
I was still helping my wife put our son to sleep, and putting on some warmer clothes. I told Brent I'd be right down, and he went back outside to find the old man walking away. He stopped him, and made him come back to repeat everything to me.
I stepped outside and asked him what the problem was (Brent had not said anything more than he wanted to ask me about Kale). He stood there, with his big pure breed poodle, and let me know how cruel it is that I keep my dog in the garage when people are at home. He did not ask me anything, he just told me. I explained the situation and why he is in there, and he had the fucking gall to tell me that I would understand where he was coming from if I had ever watched any of the animal shows on television.
I interrupted him and asked if he had ever done anything to help animals, or if he'd just watched those shows. I then asked if he knew who Brandon Bond was, and explained to him exactly what he has done to help dogs and other animals everywhere; I told him how my wife and I both do what we can to help animals and how we have fostered animals until we were able to find them homes, just to keep them out of shelters. I pointed out the dogs that were inside other people's houses that were barking at his dog. You know, because some dogs bark when they hear/see/smell other animals, regardless of where they are.
I then told him he needed to leave, and that I was done talking to him. He said he was just trying to show concern, and I let him know that he wasn't. He was actually being pretentious and just wanted to feel self righteous by telling us how he lived his life.
I was told I needed to look up the word 'pretentious'.
I didn't, but Brent did. He's never been one to turn down a challenge.
Pretentious:
a: making usually unjustified or excessive claims (as of value or standing).
b: expressive of affected, unwarranted, or exaggerated importance, worth, or stature.
I would not have been so upset if this did not happen the night after I heard about the death of Cain, Brandon Bond's pitbull and best friend. My wife and I read his story, and spent the night crying and hugging Kale and our cat Chiquita. For someone I have never met to walk up to me and tell me that I am cruel to animals, while they are wasting money paying breeders for pure breeds rather than saving an innocent animal from dying in a shelter... It gets to me. I hope that man, that old fuck, chokes on his dinner and dies slowly as his poodle pisses on his carpet in front of him.
This is the happy puppy, that apparently shouldn't be happy since we're so cruel to him:
Kale looks depressed and tortured. Or maybe he has to poop.
ReplyDeleteHe's the happiest puppy on the planet! Though when we try to take a picture at night, he tucks his tail and looks all sad. Then we put the camera down, and he's running around with his tail going crazy again.
ReplyDeleteDuring the day he loves pictures.