I do plan on doing a little recap post of this past weekend (working title: That time I kicked off the after bar by falling down the stairs and bonking my head), but this just happened last night and I'm still worked up about it so I'm blogging this now and will sneak in the weekend recap later.
A few things shall be made clear before I even start telling the story.
1) I like my dog more than some people enjoy people. My brother has expressed semi-serious concern that I may like my dog more than future kids I have.
2) I hate having to take the dog out for the "right before we go to bed potty break." It's dark, and now it's cold, and I create all sorts of scary things that live in the swamp across the street. So there's that. (I've almost retrained my brain though, because now I look for airplanes. My neighbors may all think I'm crazy as I stare at the night sky while the dog finds her perfect pee spot, but it distracts me from thinking about the swamp thing.)
So last night, I actually woke myself up, got out of bed and went to take Bella out. I muttered under my breath as I found shoes, zipped up my jacket and got her to stop moving long enough to get a leash on her. And we made our way outside. It was strange from the start. There was some asshole screaming fuck from his deck and then howling like a wolf. (followed by some drunk chick LOUDLY shushing him. Why is there always a drunk chick with the asshole?!) So I was weirded out from the start.
Then comes along crazy neighbor. This woman is legitimately bat shit crazy. Like, see it in her eyes, walk to the other side of the street (if you don't straight up turn around for fear of having to talk to her and hear her crazy lady babbling) kind of crazy. I avoid her like the plague. So you can imagine my excitement as I see her being dragged by a pit bull who weighed slightly less than me and screaming, "he's really friendly!" Bullshit. He's not friendly, you're saying that to try to mitigate the straight up FEAR in my eyes as he's barreling towards my dog...who is roughly the size of his head. So "Sargent" comes straight towards Bella and before I can pick her up their leashes are tangled and he's attacking her. (Should have just risked the pee on the carpet and went back to sleep.)
I finally said screw the damn leash and went in to grab Bella. (Having no fear of Sargent and his gnarly growl and bite). Bella*, who has no freaking clue of how small she is or the fact that the 5 teeth she still has are rounded and cause very little damage, if any (ask the cat) is trying to fight back the ENTIRE time I'm trying to grab her out of Sarge's mouth. All while screaming "HE'S BITING HER! HE'S BITING HER!" and kicking him in the chest. Not hard of course, but enough to get him to release my dog's leg from his mouth, where he's gnawing like it's a damn chicken wing! Crazy neighbor lady finally has to THROW HER ENTIRE BODY on top of him to get him to release Bella.
At this point I'm not sure who's more scared, me or Bella. We literally sat there both shaking while I tried to figure out if she still had four legs in tact. I took her in the house where she ran around trying to get back outside. (Seriously. I just risked my hands so you could keep your hind legs, the fight is over.) I went back out and told crazy neighbor lady she's fine and her response was, "Well yeah, because he bit my finger instead." You can imagine the sympathy I had for her. She did profusely apologize (which meant nothing to me) and scolded her dog in a kind of, somewhat, sort of mean voice (which meant nothing to him.)
I later discovered (thanks to stains on the bedspread) she did get nicked a little by his teeth right in her ass. So she was bleeding a little but she seemed totally un-phased by it. (I on the other hand, want to vom when I see blood. So it took me a bit to get over the fact that there was blood anywhere.) So around 11:00 the ordeal ended with the bedspread in the washer, Bella calmed down and my head hitting the pillow.
Here's where I step up to my soapbox...
I love dogs. And it breaks my damn heart when people classify dogs as "mean dogs." I don't believe any particular breed is mean, people abuse the attributes of certain breeds and MAKE the dogs mean. They TRAIN them to be mean dogs based on the fact that they've got big teeth and their bodies are the size of mine. (i.e. pit bulls and rottweilers). This woman has NO BUSINESS with a dog that big who she can't control. Dogs that size need substantial training because they are that strong and do have that kind of capability.
This is also where I point out that I am ridiculously aware of how NOT TRAINED my dog is (though she can give knucks and sit when she wants to). However, my dog is also only 19 pounds and has the aforementioned 5 rounded teeth. Fortunately even though she isn't trained, there's very little damage she is capable of (again, ask the kitty when we brought her home at less than 2 pounds and she kicked Bella's ass...repeatedly). If you can't control your dog on a walk and he is literally dragging you around, you shouldn't have him. And the solution of just screaming, "HE'S FRIENDLY!" clearly isn't working.
Secondly, if you are going to get a dog, please read a book, maybe even two, about dogs instead of thinking you're smart enough to just instinctively know about them. Even the friendliest of dogs can get aggressive when they feel threatened and are on a leash. This is why they STRONGLY suggest not leaving your dog on a leash at a dog park. It makes them feel restricted and if another dog comes and makes them feel threatened, they may get aggressive. So if you're dog weighs more than you, is stronger than you, and is on a leash...maybe, JUST MAYBE, you don't let him charge towards a pug the size of his head. Because if you can't control him as he walks, you SURE AS HELL aren't going to be able to control him as he's trying to eat her. FYI.
Also, I think the cat enjoyed this all. My entire petting zoo is made of assholes. The cutest assholes ever.
*For those keeping track at home, this is the THIRD time Bella has thought she could defend herself against a dog weighing over 100 pounds and the first time it didn't require staples.