Life Lessons on a Dog Walk

I was walking my dogs earlier today when we were met with an unexpected situation. Out of a driveway and down the street towards us came trotting/sprinting a black lab-like dog. She was not on a leash and was emanating a vibe that definitively said, "I am looking for some fun."

Sadly she also seemed to be in possession of a vibe that said, "I am not very bright." I make this observation because this fun for which she was searching was certainly not to be found with my two anti-social little canine creatures. But she barrelled up to them, bold as only the overly-enthusiastic and slightly dim-witted can be and spent a good two minutes relentlessly trying to engage them in "playtime."

If you know anything about our dogs, then you know that Freya, our shepard mix, was contemplating pouncing on ding-dong. Freya is not one for random acts of unbridled enthusiasm; it seems she finds such behavior intolerably pedestrian. She is like one of those children who comes out of the womb with intrinsic knowledge of Emily Post. So she stood, erect, bristled, and, most importantly for intruder dog to note: not wagging her tail. In short, she was deeply suspicious, just wanting her walk to be carried out with its normal predictability and dignity (i.e., without interruption from gregarious strangers). Bruce, our little terrier mix was acting true to character and barking like a maniac at black beauty as he performed a little dance best described as the "lunge like a lion/retreat like a lamb" four-step. It is more coordinated and less complicated than it sounds. I think it could give the Macarena a run for the money.

Anyway, as all this hullabaloo ensued, the dog's owner was yelling sternly at his pet--from a distance of about 20 feet away. Anyone could have ascertained that the dog was not going anywhere anytime soon, but owner, who was rather impeccably attired, did not seem to want to actually come close to the scene of the situation. If I had to guess, my instinct would be that he did not want to sully his outfit. In any case, he seemed to only want to be involved from a distance. So I was just sort of teetering there tangled in leashes, cacophony, and playful stupidity, fending for myself.

Despite my allegiance to being a feminist, it still seemed rather ungentlemanly of the stranger dog's owner. And, just to add a stereotype in here, we are in the south after all--is it so wrong to expect proper decorum?

After several minutes of (uselessly) taking action from afar, prissy pants finally came over and wrestled Bailey away (I think that was the dog's name). As we started to walk away, what came out of my mouth was really strange:

"I am so sorry. We were just walking. Sorry to bother you."

Before I could really contemplate why on earth I was apologizing for walking my fully vaccinated and leashed dogs down a public street, I saw him haul off and whack poor Bailey on the rump. Twice.

"She didn't DO anything!" I squeeked. I often squeek when in state of high-agitation. Hitting a dog ranks as high agitation in my book. Especially a sweet, playful, fun-loving , dumb-dumb like Bailey. The guy did not glance back in my direction. I watched him drag Bailey back down the driveway by her leash.

Bailey, bless her heart, was wagging her tail the whole way.

So this story riles me up for two reasons:
1. The obvious. Why is anyone hitting their dog? Even when it is a spanking, it is just not okay.
2. Also obvious. Why was I apologizing for doing nothing wrong?

Number one is not an issue I can really get into without a lot of tears, frustration, and a significant rise of blood pressure. Maybe it is none of my business if someone opts to "spank" their dog. But I say, in that situation, the dog would not have known what she did wrong. Frankly, she was already assaulted by Bruce's ear-piercing, glass-shattering shrieks, so hadn't punishment enough already incurred? If I had seen meany-owner man hit Bailey on the face or if she really seemed to be in danger, I hope, think, and pray I would have had the gumption to do or say more. At least I know his address, so I could have acted in some way.

In speaking to number two, it seems that just like Freya, Bruce, and Bailey all have their immediate, innate reactions to being presented with a situation that is unpredictable and agitating, so do I. Freya becomes a much exaggerated version of her innate being, Bruce becomes entirely out of control and goes hells bells on everyone, and Bailey seems to just carry on with business as usual.

It seems that when I am presented with a stressful situation, I am apt to retreat back to the person I was years ago, the one who apologizes for anything and everything--as if I do not have the right to walk down a street in broad daylight. And, indeed, that is just what I did. Amazing how a little interaction arising from a standard daily activity can stir up realizations about your fundamental being. And a good reminder that however far we have come in our self-evolvement, that old version still exists on some basic level. Without reading TOO much into it, I am reminded that self-awareness and change of our innate tendencies is truly a life-long process, and one that will challenge us in ways large and small, expected and unexpected. I do not want to be the girl who apologizes, and I really thought I had left her behind by now. And maybe I have in some ways, but today's "event" proves she is not gone altogether. Just something to think about anyway.