An Open Letter to The Ass Clowns I Met Today

Dear Ass Clowns,

This afternoon, Son and I went geocaching on foot to a location which is both remote and yet within 3 kms of our house. We enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, we enjoyed our time in nature, we enjoyed our time with each other, we even enjoyed the light rain that made us decide to return home earlier than anticipated. What we did NOT enjoy was you.

On our way out of our remote location, I suddenly spied "something" on the side of the trail three hundred meters ahead of us. I slowed my pace, Son questioning why. I said, "I just have a weird feeling about this." He looked again, and said, "Oh Amah, it's just backpackers."

Yeah, but my Spidey senses were tingling. My first thought was "I am a woman alone with a child on a deserted dirt road, and I don't feel good about whoever is ahead." Something was not right about the two people who had emerged from the woods, and even though you were still so far away I couldn't tell if you were men or women, I was hesitant to go any closer.

Well, ha ha, turns out I was wrong. You were no threat at all. Your crazy ass, aggressive, unleashed dogs were the REAL problem.

What were you thinking while you watched your two dogs tear off in my direction, barking wildly? When you saw me grab my son and put his body behind mine, did you find that amusing? I think you must have, because you certainly didn't seem concerned about this. I stood in a dirt road, protecting my son, while your dogs stood less than two feet away from me, baring their teeth and barking up a storm. They would jump back a few feet and then charge us again, while I stood motionless. My son's hands were dug in my sides, but I didn;t feel that at that time. I watched your circling dogs as well as I could, turning my body to keep Son as far away from them as possible. I made up my mind that I was going to have to fight the black dog, and hoped the yellow dog wouldn't jump me because of it.

While this was going on, I could hear one of you saying, "Oreo, c'mere. C'mere Oreo, c'mere." You never increased your speed over an amble, you never dropped your heavy backpack so you could run, you just meandered along while I contemplated whether I should hit the lead dog with my left arm, which is my strongest, or with my right in case I was badly mauled and needed to preserve my writing hand.

When you got within 200 feet of me, your dogs suddenly ran off in to the bush. I stayed immobile, waiting for you to collar them. You disappeared in to the brush behind them, and I slowly started walking away.

That's when your dogs charged us from behind.

I whirled around, once again shoving my Son behind me, ready to face your lunatic dogs again. My legs were shaking from fear at this point, but you kept up your slow pace as your dogs once AGAIN circled us, once AGAIN let me know I was infringing on their territory. My 12 year old Son began to cry around that point, asshole. He was so scared that all he could moan was, "Mummy.....Mummy...."

YOU, on the other hand, still saw nothing wrong. To your credit, this time you did kind of lope towards your beasts, saying, "They don't bite, lady."

Excuse me? They don't bite? And what exactly do you base that fact on, all the other people they have terrorized?

The dogs took off again....and two minutes later they once more charged us. Finally your wife realized she should do something, and slowly walked over to grab the choke chain on the less aggressive of the two dogs. She tried to grab the aggressive one, but he snarled at her, so she stepped back.

Your wife, the OWNER of this dog, was too scared to grab it.

And then it charged us again.

At that point, I started to cry. Tears of pure rage and maternal instinct. Sorry to tell you mister, that dog came within six inches of me attacking IT. Perhaps you realized this, because for the first time you ran towards your good friend Oreo, telling him to "Quit it, boy, c'mere. C'mere. C'mere." Because, you know, that was so effective the first time.

Demon Dog bounded off in to the woods again as you approached. I stooped down and picked up a good sized rock. I was done fucking around with your fucking dog. I spread my feet in a defensive stance, balanced as carefully as I could with a 12 year old hanging on to the back of my T-shirt, and waited.

Eventually you reappeared with the dog finally on a leash. You looked at me petulantly and repeated, "It's not like my dogs bite."

I couldn't even speak to you, I just took son by the hand and resumed my walk the hell out of there. A few hundred feet further on, I passed your wife who was holding back the other dog (barely) on its choke chain. "Gee I'm sorry our dogs scared you, they're just being naughty naughty babies."

Lady, you want to be some glad I had dropped that rock, because otherwise I may have bashed the side of your head in.

I have never been so scared in my life. I understand the desire to allow your dogs off-leash. I ALSO understand the responsibility of ensuring your dogs won't attack a 5'3" woman with her child.

YOU SUCK.

Sincerely,
Irma