Saturday, November 12, 2016

Not One of My Better Moments

Jack Bauer, unleashed

Usually, I keep it together. Okay, most of the time. Fine. Now and then, the SJG loses it. I'm sure it's hard for you to imagine me, short and demure gal that I am, diva of etiquette, queen of unsolicited advice, just completely going apesh*t on a total stranger. What's that? It's not hard at all to picture such a scene? You mean you've picked up signs of a temper in this blog, that blog, oh, and remember that blog from 1958? Yes, I'll admit, the hints are sprinkled throughout my Pulitzer-deprived oeuvre. There have been a few moments I've shared that reveal a darker side of my personality. Just ask a family member.

So, I was walking Blakey in the neighborhood, trying to teach him that not every squirrel, every bird, every car, every noise is worthy of his attention. Suddenly, I spotted a very large, unattended, unleashed dog rounding the corner. As is my ancestral way, I said to myself, "Oh @#$%!" Then I called to no one, for no one was visible, "Someone's dog is off-leash!" I thought I sounded so official. As the big dog -- whose named I later learned was actually Jack Bauer -- got closer, I took Blakey up on a neighbor's front porch (a protective maneuver I pulled out of my tush) and said again, "Someone's dog is off-leash!" Then an entourage appeared, three or four children parading in back of Jack Bauer, followed by a bigly buff fellow, in charge of this cheery brigade.

"Why is your dog off-leash?" I said to him, angrily.
"My dog is fine. My dog isn't the problem, ma'am."
"What you're doing is against the law."
"You're the problem here, not my dog. You're making your dog crazy."
"Excuse me! This is a rescue dog. I'm training him. You need to have your eff'n dog on an eff''n leash. That's the law!"
(Piss me off and I go all litigious.)

The rest is a blur. There was more screaming, mostly on my part. I know, I know. It was not one of my better moments. I handled myself horribly. But when it comes to protecting my posse, canine or human, I get fierce. I rise up to a level of Do Not Eff With Me. Where does this fury come from, this anger and fighting spirit? Beats the kaka out of me. Somewhere deep in my Russian DNA, I suppose. Next time, I'll do better. I'm sure there will be a next time. That's just how the universe works.

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