Gone to the Dogs

Overheard out my window, 3:31pm:

[Dogs barking loudly]

Man with fluffy black dog: “LADY, WHAT IS YOUR DOG’S PROBLEM!”

Lady with white pitbull: [sighs heavily, looks extremely frazzled, is having great difficulty holding onto the leash] “Your dog started it, I was trying to go around the van!”

[Man walks away, mumbling to himself]

[Dog drags lady and she drags him back, both ending up out in the street and out of sight]

Man backtracks to the scene of the incident: “IF YOU CAN’T HOLD ON TO YOUR DOG, YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE A DOG!”

Lady with wiry brown dog: “Is your dog ok?”

Man: “I don’t know!”

Lady: “Well, check!”

[Man wanders off again, mumbling again]

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One thought on “Gone to the Dogs

  1. When Roger and I used to live in Baltimore we lived in the first floor apartment that abutted an alley. Ladies of the night used to work the street behind us, and apparently many of them had pimps because we used to hear the most interesting conversations on summer nights when our windows were open. Lots of shady things went on in that alley now that I think of it. Glad we had bars on our windows. 🙂

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