In March of 2017, I wrote a post titled, “Dear Neighbor.” I thought it was pretty funny, and based on the comments, you all did too. In case you miss it, (or want a refresher), you can read the entire post, here.

The last ‘letter’ was to a person named Dan. Truthfully, I’m not sure if I can make this story funny, because the entire incident left me feeling sad, and I wasn’t sure how to write about it, BUT I do have a future post in mind that will refer to this story, so that’s why I’m sharing it now.

This incident took place in November of 2016, but it actually started a few months before when I notice one of the houses on our walk had a new puppy.

The first time I saw the Husky puppy, the family was out in the yard with him, I watched the puppy chase one of the young children, jumping and nipping at her while she screamed, and I put on my judgy pants. The household has three to four children, and the mom runs a home daycare.   I thought, well shit, here we go. A busy family, a new puppy, I can see how this is going to go down. But then that little angel that sits on my right shoulder (YES SHE DOES!) said, you should at least give them a chance, it’s very possible that they have their shit together, and understand the demands of a dog.

At first, it seemed my fears were not justified, I saw the mom and dad out walking the puppy and I had hope.

But before long, I saw the mom was too busy, so one of the kids would take the puppy out after school, run him three houses down, and run him back. The puppy loved to run, and happily did so, straining on the end of his retractable leash.

Then one day, I saw the young boy outside with his friend, and the puppy. The puppy, now much bigger, was chasing the friend, and nipping at him.  The young man was clearly a willing participant in this ‘game’ and kept running into the road with the puppy right on his heels. Then he would ask his friend, “Why does your dog keep biting me?” And they would do it again.

I stopped Delilah a few houses away and observed this ‘game’ for a good 5 minutes. I was nervous about passing the house, because many times when the puppy got to the end of the retractable leash, the boy would get yanked out into the street. The kid was stick thin, and he was also looking at his cell phone.

I finally got the nerve up to pass the house, and as I did I said to the boy, “You need to have your dog under control.”

He responded, “I do.”

“I don’t think so.”

That’s when the real dilemma started. I knew I had to say something to the parents, but I wasn’t sure the best way to approach it. Do I call Animal Control and have them go out? Do I call her up on the phone? (She had a daycare sign on the front lawn.) Or do I try to catch them outside, and speak to them in person, so they can see I’m not just being a bitch, I am coming from a place of sincerity? I didn’t want the kid to get in trouble, but I just knew I had to try and educate, at least for the puppy’s sake.

Hubby said, “Stay out of it.”

But that’s not how I roll. Especially when…Puppy!!

I decided I’d try and address it in person, and every day on my way home, I’d swing past the house. One Friday I hit pay dirt and the dad was outside doing leaves.

I stopped my car, and introduced myself, and told him I had concerns about his puppy. I explained how I wanted to do it in person, so he could see I was coming from a place of caring.

To his credit, he listened to me, and then he said, “Ryan (I’m not sure if that’s the kids name or not, but for the sake of this post, it’s Ryan.) weighs 50 pounds soaking wet, that’s why the dog is pulling him. And he’s just a puppy. He doesn’t understand.”

Insert eye roll. “That’s why you train them. They can learn what to do and what not to do.”

Then, “They’re teenage boys, what can you do?”

“You tell them that they can be setting that puppy up for failure or damaging the puppy.

“They don’t listen.”

Then don’t let them have charge of the dog you fucking moron.

” You tell them, what’s cute at 20 pounds isn’t cute at 60. If I’m not mistaken, he’ll get to be a large dog.”

“Yes he will, but then it will be my wife or I walking him.”

And the conversation continued this way for a few minutes before I realized I wasn’t getting through that thick head of his. I got in my car, and cried.  I cried for that sweet little puppy who was not getting the proper training, and for the poor little kid the dog ends up biting. I pictured the dog living in a crate, or getting surrendered to a shelter, or euthanized because he bit a child.

Shortly after that, I saw the dog with a cone around his neck, and I assumed he’d been neutered. That day, Ryan was once again taking him for a ‘walk’, except they were running and the dog was jumping alongside the boy when he ran.

And I thought, Jesus H. that dog should NOT be running, let alone jumping.

Shortly after that, I saw another friend of this young man, and he was walking home from school.

“You know my friend’s dog?”

“You mean the husky puppy?”

“Yeah. That dog is crazy.”

“No, that dog is not crazy, that dog needs to be trained.”

As far as I can tell, the dog still has not been trained. He does not get regular exercise, they don’t have a fenced yard or even an e-fenced yard, so the dog only goes out when they take him out to potty, and I never see them walking him.

It makes me so damn sad for that dog.

 

 

 

 

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