Saturday, May 20, 2006

Dumber'n Dog Poop

This week's can of Whup-Ass goes to thoughtless dog owners.

The sad thing is that you probably wouldn't recognize yourself even if your unleashed dog came up and bit you on your pootie.

I'm not talking about that particular breed of sloths who are irresponsible breeders. I've already written about that once.

I'm talking about the "leash laws don't apply to me, and if my dog destroys something/hurts someone/makes a mess, it's not my fault" kind of dingleberry.

The lovely BP over at Southern Circle of Hell wrote a really good post about this, and inspired me to add my own 2 cents.

We live in a rural mountain area.

Sometimes when people first move up here, the lack of oxygen clouds their thinking. They assume the laws (such as leash laws) that are in place in urban areas don't apply, and there they are quite wrong.

So if Rover needs to "do his business" they just open the door and let him run.

Bad bad idea.

Dogs are pack animals. Even harmless little "Fluffy". When you get 5 or 6 dogs running around together on a regular basis, they can terrorize a neighborhood.

At first people in the area would call the specific dog owners and complain. "Get up here and get your @$*%&# dog!"

Some owners would correct the problem and figure out how to keep control of their dogs, and some just didn't give two shits.

One day this pack of dogs went onto a family's property, destroyed their rabbit hutches and mauled a bunch of prize-winning rabbits. The survivors had to be put down. The family "knew" who the dogs belonged to, but because they didn't actually capture them, the police could do nothing except take a complaint.

The dog owners swore that Rover or Spot was inside at the time, and that their precious poopies were never allowed to run free, much less run with a band of marauding mutts.

It became a he said/she said kind of thing.

So the mother of this family started a war. Good on her.

Every time the "pack" of neighborhood dogs made the rounds to her neck of the woods, she'd trap them. Then call animal control to pick them up. And give them the names and addresses of the owners.

First offense: $50.00 fine. Every offense thereafter was doubled. After a while the idiot dog owners figured out that their fecklessness was getting mighty expensive and took care of the problem.

When I was a kid in the suburbs, this guy down the street had a dog that would frequently knock over and tear up people's trash on garbage day.

It would drive my father absolutely insane, because not only was the dog humongous, it was mean too. If my dad tried to shoo it away or got too close, the dog would turn from ripping up the trash bags and growl at him.

He'd call the owner up and say, "Your G*ddamned Dog is over here going through my trash."

Neighbor would say, "It's not my dog. My dog is right here." And hang up. Which would make Dad swear even more.

Thinking back, I have no idea why my dad never called animal control or filed a complaint. A man thing?

He'd just lurk by the front window every trash day at 6am to see if that *&%^$# dog would be in our trash again. If it was, he'd call the owner.

"Next time your dog is in my trash, I'm going to shoot the sonuvabitch!"

"It's not my dog. My dog is right here."

Click. Buzz.

More foul language from Dad.

This back and forth went on for years. Dad even collected a few implements in the garage to throw at the dog to chase it away, although the sling shot idea never really took off.

He did peg it with a can of Coke once.

We'd get a couple of months of respite, and then the dog would be back at it again.

Who knows why it liked our trash so much. Maybe because we ate a lot of steak?

One day Dad just had enough. And I know you pet lovers are going to get mad, but sometimes a person just reaches a breaking point.

He shot the dog.

In the ass.

With rock salt.

It ran screeching down the street.

About two minutes later the phone rang.

It was the neighbor. And he was screaming his damn fool head off.

"You shot my dog! I'm going to sue your &#%&$ ass!!"

Dad had a huge grin on his face. "No you aren't," he said. "Because it's 'not your dog.' Remember?"

'Nuff said.


carmachu said...

Your dad's nice......I liked it.

We had a problem with goats and sheep, my dad took to shoorting them with bunt arrows. That sent them running quick.

Forget animal control, just shoto them if they are a menace. I like animals and all, but when pack animals get together, forget it.

Take the rabbit story: my wife's parent's had the same probelm with a pair of Huskies, that came UP ONTO their porch and took their old deaf cat by suprise and played tug of war with it.

It wasnt the first time the dogs got out and got an animal. But the judges around there couldnt dop much.

So shooting them in the option if it becomes a real problem. An occassional thing is one thing, continious is another.

debbiecakes said...

Awww, great fun loving story. Really it was. It certainly brought a smile to my face, especially when Papa got a brand new kind of revenge. That kinda of thing just warms my heart and soul.

BY THE, yeah. Ooooops, sorry. No, it wasn't you, and thanks for setting me straight. It was Mommy On The Verge.

But isn't that close enough to Attilla the Mom? I'm she's on the verge, man, she's right on the edge and when she crosses the line she'll be an Attilla, too. Right?

Okay, I'm gonna go pick on her now.

Attila The Mom said...

Debbie---there's too many Mom's on these blogs. I'm going to have to get Daddy's pellet gun and eliminate some of them. ;-)

Nikki said...

HA HA Great story Attila.

Rock Salt. That had more than one kind of sting.

St Jude said...

I don't know if you have the same problem over there, but here vicious dogs are being used instead of knives and other weapons in muggings. Heck I've worked with dogs, (training them), in my professional life but I would still hand over my purse to an angry dog anyday over a knife weilding idiot.

Big Pissy said...

OMG! You KNOW what a dog lover I am, but I LOVE what your dad did! Too funny! Poor dog, but at least it made his owner finally take some responsibility!

Sweet Man, Buster and I went walking on a different route Wednesday...same problem as the one I posted about...

Only THIS big dog was on his porch, no owner in sight and decided to come out to "meet" us. Sweet Man had to pick Buster (on his leash, of course) up and carry him until we got far enought away for the loose dog to lose interest.


kim said...

I live in a subruban neighborhood and most of our neighbors let their dogs run free. Makes me crazy.

Also, that picture of Fluffy you have? ADORABLE.

shirley said...

Ugh, animals can become weapons too, so it's just scary that so many stupid people own them. (similar to my thoughts about dumb people that have children inspired by one of your recent posts.)


Charlie said...

You wanna know what honks my horn? What makes me madder than a hornet in heat? Well, do ya? Huh?

It's CATS!

Both of our dogs have to have license tags, and to get them they have to have rabies and parvovirus shots. They have to be on a leash, and you have to pick up their dooty.

Fine. We do it, and we don't mind it. Part of being a RESPONSIBLE pet owner.

There are, however, no rules for CATS. No licenses required, no shots, no leash law, no poop pick-up.

And the neighbors have a gazillion of 'em. And they run wild. The cats do too. They crap in Martha's rosebushes. The cats do too. They howl because they are in heat. The cats do too. We listened to one for two weeks, but she finally got laid and went home. I can't stand that woman. I hope she has ten kittens for her two saggy teats.

So where's the gol'durn rock salt when I needed it? Huh?

carmachu said...

Admiral: here's a hint, get VERY good with a singshot. We have the same problem here....

The shotgun/rocksalt would vaporize the poor kitties....

carmachu said...

Thats sling shot, gods I cant spell today.

Rootietoot said...

We had a neighbor with a dog who would come over and pee and poop in my mom's huge (think, 1/2 acre) vegetable garden.

(this is related) My mom dyed wool and cotton (that she'd spun on the spinning wheel my dad built for her) in huge black iron cauldrons. Natural dyes stink and make funny colored steam. The neighborhood thought my mom was a witch.

She kept a small pellet pistol in her pocket and took to shooting the dog with it if he came into her garden while she was there.

One day she forgot her gun and pointed at the dog, shouting "BANG". The dog screamed and ran off, and the neighbor witnessed the whole thing. They were even more convinced she was a witch, and took the dog to a priest to get the hex removed.

Thing is, Mom's a Presbyterian, not a pagan.

Mr. Fabulous said...

I concur. Non compliance with leash laws is one of my biggest pet peeves.

No pun intended. But you may chuckle if you wish.

Thoughtless dog owners.

Mia said...

OK I take it back, I am going to comment but only because I can't believe not one single person commented on your Dad sounding strangely similar to Ralphie's dad in A Christmas Story! Of course if they are similar this would explain a LOT about you. ;o)

Kathy said...

I can't blame him one bit. A little sting from rock salt is a small price to pay for his owners stupidity. How else do you finally get the stupid owners attention?

Actually though I do have an idea bout that. If an unwanted furry guest comes into youro yard, send him or her home with a bright pink stain from kool-aid water. The owners won't like it much if fluffy isn't fluffy anymore. You can load the stuff in a water gun, and not even go near the pet too. How did fluffy get pink, if he was home being a good dog? Just food, er drink, for thought.

Pooper, you and I share a pet peeve.

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