Never hurt a fly

So yesterday I took Gaza up to one of the trails on Griffith Park, and as usual, as soon as I'd started up the trail, away from the picnic tables and jungle gym, I let the dog off the leash.

What happens 999 times out of 1000, is nothing.  The etiquette is clear if unwritten.  If another dog is on the leash, you hook yours up, because they are sometimes telling you they have an unfriendly dog.  Otherwise, most of the other dogs you meet are off leash, and nothing is sweeter than the moment your two sweethearts with metronome tails back and forthing sniff hello, do a feint or two, and then jump off to follow their master. Once in a blue moon there's a little snarlfest,  Never once has Gaza or any other dog I've seen threatened a human.  He did bark once at a very hostile Rastafarian with a walking stick and a angry attitude.

I also leash the dog when a family with kids approaches.  Sometimes one of the kids is waving a stick or might rush the dog, but mostly I don't want the parents to worry even in the back of their minds.

So yesterday, I was trudging up there, noticing that the incline seems to be less stressful on my feet than walking on a flat surface, and a middle-aged couple  is approaching in the other direction. Gaza, as usual, is sniffing away, on a mission to do a census of the other dogs who have peed there since the last rains. 

Suddenly, this woman blurts at me: "You got a leash?"  Taken aback at her abrupt manner, I pointed at the one hanging around my neck. "Well, you should use it."  I asked: "why?"--motioning to my completely harmless doggie who was already 20 paces ahead. "Because is it's the law!' she barks.

Now here I am, with my trashpicker and my bag already filling with trash. Do you think that perhaps that's an indicator that I might be what is termed "civic-minded?"  But before I could say anything, her husband looks at me Thomas Starr King H.S. t-shirt, and points out: "I went to that high school!"

I was going to tell him I bought it at a thrift store, but his wife was getting away. "I've had this dog for 10 years, and he's the sweetest thing on the planet!" She refused to turn,  no doubt obsessing over that "incident" she had with an unleashed dog 22 years ago, that has forever prompted her to see dogs as potential enemies, no matter how many gazillion more times she passes the best animals ever made. 

Oh, the things I could have said:

"You know lady, you'd be a lot happier if you were the type of person who instead said: "what a nice dog. Can I pet him?"

or

(to the husband) "Is this what you do? Make nice conversation to distract from the embarrassing wife who has to control everything and everyone? How long have you been her doormat? When are you going to stand up to her?"

or (my favorite)

"Oh, and you're wearing orange! Gaza, come over her nice and quiet now. Move away from the nice lady..."

And on and on. I was so after-the-fact brilliant in my head, as, frankly, I fumed. Though I guess I'm glad all I said is what I said.  The women might have been a born ballbuster, but most probably she was just afraid of dogs, and probably for a reason.  Still, when your child is cast as some sort of potential threat, you tend to get defensive. (Yes, technically she was right about the law. The city is obligated to put that up for liabililty reasons, but my dog is going to get some exercise damnit.)  

If you've made it this far in this entry, than you're a real fan, and you'll probably enjoy this ABC  interview with my friend Heather King, about her book Redeemed--which really is wonderful.

MCO 2008

P.S. That's a Bazille painting, with Gaza laid in. Unfortunately, that is not my ass.