12 December 2008

Dogs hate me. The feeling's mutual.

I was at a shop today, clomping down some metal stairs on my way out, when I saw an enormous St. Bernard-Rottweiler-looking hound quiescently lying almost completely across the exit corridor. The lady with whom I was doing business with called something down the stairs to me, and what I caught was:
"...pet the dog." 
So I obligingly reached down to pet the doggie's huge head as I passed.
And the fucking thing bit me.
Stunned, I turn around and look up the stairs and she yells, "I said, 'don't pet the dog.'" 
Ugh. I didn't get pissed because well, she did try to warn me, and also because I wasn't very seriously injured.
But goddam it — why would anybody bring a dog to a store if they knew it bites? 
Look, I know you people love your dogs so very, very much, and your special little smoochy-poochy would never do anything naughty unless he was provoked and all that crap. But ferchrissakes folks, do the rest of us the kindness of leaving the nasty little bastards at home. People do pet pets. See? It's explicitly there in the job description! They don't expect to get their arm taken off below the elbow with purchase.
Brian, this does not apply to your sweet and lovable herd. Or to Maddie or Mellow Leonard.
But the rest of you! GRRRRRRR.

2 chimed in:

J9 said...

ok, um, wow. I teach my kids to always ask the human companion of a "pet" if said pet is friendly, and to ask if they may pet it. I highly recommend this approach to anyone encountering humans and animals together in their daily lives.

And it sucks that you were bitten.

J9 said...

Oh, and I just got the Daddy post, so from now on, I'll confuse the hell out of my kids by telling them to shush, because Daddy's talking when Rachel is on air!