I don't like your dog* and I vote.

Dear FuckwitAsshat At the Beach:

I don't know what I was thinking - how presumptuous of me to believe that I could take my son for an impromptu romp in the sand without incident. Today's gloriously blue sky beckoned, and I ditched the trip to the grocery store for fruit (my piano students must have fruit! they cannot concentrate otherwise! this is their story and they are sticking to it!), stopping instead at a local farm stand for a bag of kiwis. And then across the highway to the beach.
I said to Bubbles, "You know? It is so gorgeous, but I am going to take you to the beach anyway! Even though I don't have my camera with me!"

Wouldn't you know there was a river! Of water! Running through the sand! Straight out to the ocean! All this is very exciting when you are two years old and realize that rivers of water? They carry STICKS! Out to the ocean! On the river! Of water!
The sticks, they go in, they swiftly head for the ocean, they get stuck in the rapids and bob around a bit, and this? This is HILARIOUS! We must laugh and laugh and throw more sticks in the water, until we have run out of sticks and we find a rock! And when it goes in the water it makes a huge splash, which is also? HILARIOUS!
And the sand? The sand is all in the wrong place, and it could take all day to move it to the right place! Which would be back in the ocean, of course!
We were feeling mighty pleased with ourselves, our only company a few gluttonous seagulls who eyed us with disgust when they saw our hands devoid of food.

When suddenly, out of nowhere, came...OUTOFCONTROLDOG, spinning out right towards us. I started yelling. "NO! NONO!! DOWN! GO!" but it was too late. OUTOFCONTROLDOG jumped up, bounced off of me and hurled itself into Bubbles, who ended up getting pinned down with a faceful of sand before I could knee the dog off of him. He was shaking, sobbing, "Up! Upupupupup!" (Note: new word!) and I just held him. Meanwhile, the owner of the dog, a shirtless twenty-something STOOPID ASSHOLE, muttered, "Uhhh...sorry. Sorry."
(Oh- your voice DOES work? Do you know how to tell your dog 'NO'? Would you like a little lesson in 'No'? Should I kick your dog in the ass and then would you tell ME "No'? Or would you prefer that I kick YOU in the ass?)
I couldn't be bothered too much with 'accepting' his apology; I was more concerned with letting Bubbles get through the shock of the moment and recover. As I nuzzled into his trembling neck, telling him it was 'okay', I noticed that the dog had actually drawn blood where he had pinned my son down with his paw. A lovely long gash across his neck and a print of the dog's nails. I looked up and saw that the guy with the dog was long gone. A car drove away.
Okay, I can appreciate you removing your dog from the scene, but really? Leaving entirely? Without even asking to see if my child was okay? Your dog attacked took down my kid, and you left with your tail between your legs. Were you afraid of a lawsuit? Has this happened before?
You are the reason that towns institute county-wide leash laws. You, who treat your dog as if it's your child, but, unlike a responsible parent, you think that your 'child' will just be super on its own! Dog owners who choose NOT to train their dogs or control them MAKE ME CRAZY!
My child cannot rip your child apart at the neck with his teeth. Or let's just say it is very unlikely.
And if my kid DID happen to go to preschool with another REAL CHILD and DID happen to BITE them, you can bet your sweet boobies that I would not ignore it.

So, fuckwit from the beach...you dodged a bullet today. But if I ever see your lousy OUTOFCONTROLDOG again, I will throw rocks at it. And also at you.
I promise.


*You? Reader?? Your dog? No, not your dog! Your dog is lovely! Your dog is well-behaved and trained and does not belong to an asshat!!! Because YOU? You are smart! And you KNOW that if your dog attacks my kid, your dog will die and you will go to jail for being an asshat!
So no, not you.


YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.