Don't have a pet if they aren't going to be cared for like family.
The County Road that my property runs adjacent to is all, all of it, 60 km/hr. Most country roads are 80 km/hr. I would have to bet that less than half of that road actually has homes on it. But they all complained years ago and got 60 km/hr. As I said to our mayor one day I needed to share some "stupid human" things with him, "it's not my job to protect their animals and children, it's theirs". And that's true. The road was always 80 km/hr when these complainers bought their homes and cottages. So why the reduction? As per the mayor, they complained one too many times. He did what they wanted.
And yes, the mayor and I are homeys. But that's another long story involving a drowning, an OPP awards dinner and our mayor who could not forget me. Shocking I know! I am surprised to find people remember me. Apparently I really don't shut the hell up.
This past week I headed into town to pick up my dog. I had dropped him off promptly at 9am to get a bath and groom. He gets himself all worked up about it so I like to ensure he's in and out of there fast. He's ten years old. I don't like to stress him out. He's a very big hairy dog and it's a big job to groom him, bathe him, and groom him again. I have always used a professional for the job. When they called at noon I was so pleased to hear he was actually done, dry and everything.
This is not easy to brush, wash, then brush again. It's like a Yorkie in "Honey I Blew up the Dog". Master Riley.
Imagine my surprise when not 4 city blocks from my road I see three huge white dogs in the middle of the 60 km/hr (mostly driven at 80 by resentful asshats like myself) county road. When I say middle, I mean MIDDLE. Three, 100 pounds each, of Great Pyrenees. There was a man to my left raking leaves so I pulled over onto the right shoulder and called across the road, "are these your dogs, do you know the owners?" He said he didn't but that they'd come by way of the farm on my side. I U-turned my car around to his side, pointing now back towards my house and yelled out "Meadow, Forrest". Two of the dogs stopped, turned, and stepped towards us. Then man said, "well apparently they know you". DAMN IT! *insert feelings of responsibility here*
That's not just fur, that would be ALL dog. And that's a lot of dog. A lot of shedding, dirty, smelly, fur.
These damn dogs are FOREVER getting out.
I didn't even know they had three of them. South of the lake on my road is a Mennonite family. When they got the first dog, it was forever outside of their property, but remained near their house. I walk my dog that way, thankfully theirs is submissive even off leash and mine does okay if free too. Many a time I have found myself leading Meadow, their first of three, back to their house. One year on a sheer iced driveway on which both Riley and I fell. He hurting his shoulder, me my back. I wasn't rude, but I certainly wasn't pleasant that day when I informed them their dog was on the road.
Then months later Riley went nuts in the house at 6am for NO REASON. Before I could reach his doggy door he'd run headlong into it. Turns out, Meadow was out again, this time all the way to our property. Riley chased her to the edge of our property then waited for me (thank god) to lead their dog home.
This past winter on one of our walks I got to meet Forrest, Meadow's son. (Stupid names, I think the 3rds named Tree). I only got his name because he was in the gully and when I approached him saying "stay" he cowered and waited for me. I read his tag. He was frightened of me and Riley. Thankfully my dog isn't sadistic and really just herded Forrest home. And again, "your dog was on the road, in the gully, had he jumped out in front of a car going down that hill.....I don't want to think about it". Again, I kept my temper in check. My nails were cutting into my palm. Fact: that f-in hurts.
These people are not bad people. They have 5 or 6 kids. They seem to love them something fierce. Every morning they all walk down to the school bus and each give a Mom and Dad kiss before they go. The kids are always assisting each other and when they come down to the lake for a swim it's the same. I know them well enough because Meadow is forever jumping in the lake then coming up onto our property to greet Riley. It's all good. They don't do too badly but each time, I am forced to return her to where she belongs, and now he, their other dog.
It was this past winter I was bombing along that road, probably doing over 80 but not by much, it was snowing. My back was killing me and I had to pee. When both are activated it's painful. All those areas attached, the nerves aligned, and I was in agony. Just as I was about to turn onto my own road, through the snow I saw something move and I realized it was these two white dogs. I slammed on the brakes and righted myself. Luckily I didn't spin out. I rolled down my window, called their names, and managed to get them to follow my car home to their house. I let them in their main gate and instead of falling on their icy driveway I turned and left. I was pissed (and holding the same in)and I knew I would be rude. And I was quite fearful in a fit of rage I would wet my pants. Nothing ruins the impact of a good rage like urine running down your leg. "You mutha f.....oh no....".
Now back to this week. I have found out they now have 3 dogs that like to escape. Mine is waiting at the groomers to come home. I have no cell in my car, I forgot it, so I can't even call the family. I got their number one day at the lake saying "might as well give me your number as it seems to always be me". The guy raking his lawn said "they've all got collars on (chokes of course...grrrr), do you want a long rope to lead them back?". Well I figured why the hell not try. By this point there were a good 6 cars slowing and trying to pass these stupid dogs in the middle of the road. Thank god I had treats in the car as that got them off the road and a little less skittish of me. They were filthy, they stank, they were covered in mud, and one of them was all covered in burs and some scabs. I was so glad Riley wasn't with me to catch anything from them. I did NOT like a pretty big cut on the nose of one. If you were to rap a dog with a ruler, that would be the spot, much like the back of a kids hand would be.
Now remember, my dog is waiting. I have no phone. I have my car, purse in car, and I have one of the worlds worst backs which is raging right now because I am over due for a nerve blocker shot. And what was on my feet you ask? What amazingly good for me shoes did I have on? UGGs. The world's worst orthopedic back supportive shoe ever. Warm and cozy to walk around your property on, sure. Good to walk 3, over 100 pound dogs in, not so much. I have a horseshoe up my ass I do, it's just backwards and stuck somewhere wrong therefore giving me nothing but a pain in the ass and no good luck!
I looped up all three dogs through their chokes with the rope and made it much like reigns. Them on one end, side by side, me at the other holding two ends of rope. I walked them to the car, got in, held them out the window. I put the 4 way blinkers on and started off along the shoulder so the dogs were only on my side of the road, in my lane. With some very stupid sounding calls and noises I was able to get them about halfway home before the eldest walked in front of my car and stopped dead. She wasn't moving. At this point I was annoyed with the noise coming out of my mouth anyways. *chirp* *haaaay* *whoot whoot* *chirp* *whistle*...you get the heavily annoying picture.
I was forced to either let them go or walk them home. Which do you think this bleeding heart chose? I flagged down a car and asked them to drive to the home to see if the owners would come and started walking my three Littlest Ponies.
This family have a huge piece of property so halfway up the hill on the way, (thank god), I was able to go into one of their side gates and take all the dogs off the rope and let them go free. They were pulling, JUST A TAD. The flagged down car had come and gone already, told me the family wasn't home. I walked the dogs through the woods to the house and enclosures. All of their animals live outside. They had told me once they chose this dog as the breeder told them they like being outside. I guess they missed the, "wander off, like to explore", part. I don't approve of always outdoor dogs, never have. It gets too cold, you know it, I know it. It gets too hot. Same thing.
Once on their property I was furious. My back was screaming. I was worried about my dog and my car now left at the side of the road, blinkers on, purse briskly hidden as I couldn't manage to reign three dogs and carry a purse. I am not THAT good.
I went up to the house and knocked and knocked. The one dog, the one really dirty and with the cut, jumped up onto a table with cat food bowls and devoured all of it. He seemed really really hungry???? That mad me even more mad. I went to the side door of the house, where the dogs lead me, and opened it. I stepped into the unlocked house and into their mudroom. I tried to call all the dogs in there, figured I could lock them in but one wouldn't cross the threshold. Obviously one of them knew the house was off limits. I couldn't drag her, she was the skittish one.
For a second I contemplated opening the mudroom door to the house and letting the dogs have at it. The ONLY thing that stopped me was knowing from the window that there was food in bins on the floor, in bowls on the tables and counters. I knew if I did that, the one dog would eat everything and in all likelihood, die. Onions for example, not a dogs friend but a dog will eat it if hungry and there they were on the floor in a bag. DAMN IT!
I lead the dogs away and back towards their pen to put them in there. Thankfully there were three dog houses and a lot of room in the pen but gaps everywhere in the fencing. At one point while directing me there the dog with the sore on his nose tried climbing through a broken barn window pane, in a door. The only reason he didn't choke was my pulling/lifting him out. When they all took off towards the woods at that point I had enough. I needed to get MY dog. I now needed to throw my mud covered, dog foot printed UGGs away, and I sorely needed a hot bath and a fucking valium or 12.
Outside of the property I managed to hitch a ride with the farmer across the way who lamented on about these "damn dogs", "scaring the cattle", "my ranch owner will shoot one some day, its bound to happen". I just wanted to be home. Not only to get this entire ordeal behind me but the truck I hitched a ride in had a passenger floor covered in take out food boxes, a dirty shovel propped up behind the pick up's seats and a whack of rope and wires in the flatbed. I was sure this was going to end with my tied up in a barn. He was a serial killer for SURE! Hey, FYI Dexter season ender, blah.
Thankfully, I made it home. I haven't seen the white dogs again. I pretty much round up a lost dog a month up here in god's country and manage to get them home same day. This bunch, they've got me stumped.
That may be true but my patience is being wasted.
My question is this, what to do now?
a) Go visit them again in person and explain it, and TRY to keep my cool.
b) Write them a "not again" letter.
c) Write them a "I'm gonna call the OSPCA" letter.
d) Forget it and move on.
What would you do? Remember, Anger Management on TV doesn't begin to cover my issues.
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