An Open Letter to the Pile of Human Excrement Who Tried to Kick my Dog at the Park Tonight

We have been going to the dog park for a long time.  More than 8 years now, come to think of it.  In the cold months our attendance has been sporadic over the years because 1) Thumbelina is a Florida Dog, and 2) Rerun was inherently lazy and didn’t like to run and play.  However, with the addition of Dash to our family we’ve found ourselves going more often even though Thumbelina is 14 and largely past her running and playing at the park days.

That being said, the behavior exhibited tonight by you, you knuckle dragging hydrocephalic troglodyte, is absolutely inexcusable.  Your dog, a Cairn Terrier whom we will call Snowflake*, is somewhat aggressive.  If I had to guess why I’d say it’s likely because he’s not neutered (at least it looks that way in those hairy nether regions) and because you’re clearly trying to make up for something.  Why you’re doing it with pseudo-Toto is beyond me, but I’ll take it over you abusing some other large breed like every other lackwit with a manhood problem.

Snowflake is an athletic and fast dog.  He’s great at playing fetch and he’s a hell of a jumper.  You and the woman who I assume is your wife are always there with the newest dog toys, flashy leads, and super expensive (human) outerwear.  Yay for you.

The one or two other times I’ve interacted with you I’ve noticed that you look down on the rest of us.  Particularly those of us who aren’t wearing designer duds, who are using well loved dog toys, who are people of color (hilarious considering your wife is Asian), or who don’t measure up to some bizarre standard of Privileged White Yuppiness you’ve set.  Apparently, the dog park is the only place in Cambridge where you have to deal with the rest of the world.  I’m quite sure you don’t ride the T and that Snowflake attends only the finest doggie day care while you’re managing your hedge funds or outsourcing American jobs for a living.

Be that as it may, we don’t generally go to the dog park for human socialization.  We go for dog socialization.  We’ve been going a lot more since we got Dash because he’s a high energy dog.  He loves running, he loves people, and most importantly, he needs to be around more dogs than just Thumbelina.

You see, unlike Master Snowflake, Dash wasn’t raised in the lap of luxury.  Dash was a neglect case who was turned over to a shelter in Western MA by his erstwhile owner.  We were lucky enough to adopt him, but in the time since we’ve had him we’ve had to work on basic things like teaching him that hands don’t hurt and that he’ll have food, water, and love every day.  We’ve also had to get close enough to him to assess what else we need to work on.  This take time.  And patience.  He’s 6 years old, he’s not a puppy with a tabula rasa. He has baggage that we need to unpack as we earn his trust.

And here I am, an experienced dog owner with years of background dealing with those imperfect, deeply flawed, and completely lovable broken and abused animals.  I take my unwanted and neglected dogs to the park and I make it clear to any other human within shouting distance that I am here to work on my dog’s behavior.  If anyone is uncomfortable, Dash stays on the leash.  If Thumbelina misbehaves, and she’s 14 now so she’s a bit cranky, she’s on leash or in the doggie travel sling.  I take full responsibility for my animals.

I know Dash likes to bark.  I know that he hasn’t relearned all of his dog manners.  I know he tends to come on strong because he’s SO excited.  I also know that he doesn’t seem to get along well with Snowflake.  So tonight when Snowflake jumped up in the air over Dash’s head and then landed right on top of him, you know what I did?  Nothing.

I didn’t storm over to Snowflake and yell or scream.  I didn’t grab Dash and cuddle him and coo.  Dash was a little stunned but he was fine.  Interestingly, you didn’t do anything either.  No apology, not even an acknowledgement that your larger dog had just jumped up into the air and landed on my smaller one.  And you know what?  I didn’t expect one.

You know why?  Because that’s what dogs do, they play.  Sometimes that involves a little roughhousing.  Sometimes it involves tripping and falling or wrestling.  So 5 mins later when Dash was over near you and Snowflake, and Dash came on too strong guess what happened?  That’s right, they had a little tiff.  I was, admittedly, out of arm’s reach.  Silly me, I trusted that you’d be ready to whisk your precious out of the way of the rest of the rabble in a moment’s notice.  You weren’t.

But here’s the thing.  It wasn’t a dog fight.  It wasn’t even close.  It was two males, one older and neutered and one intact, larger, and more aggressive, working out who is dominant. Here’s a clue, because you clearly need one, this happens all the time in groups of dogs. Dogs have a hierarchy and if we don’t let it get sorted out, then there will be  fight.

You didn’t waste any time though.  You shoved Master Snowflake over to the side and then you tried to KICK MY DOG.

Let’s put that out here again, you, a full grown adult male, tried to kick my 15lb dachshund.

And you missed.

I think it goes to show how well controlled I am that I didn’t lose it right then and there.  I called Dash, who looked really confused, and he came to me.  Snowflake, at this point was at the other end of the park pooping.  You conferred with your wife, and then, in a tremendous show of tiny testicular fortitude you sneered at me, “You need to keep your dog on a leash!”

I suppose I should be impressed that a heaving syphilitic pustule such as yourself decided to go and clean up after Snowflake.  You probably have staff for that at home.

I stayed right where I was, with both Thumbelina and Dash until it was obvious that the other folks at the dog park had seen your poorly timed kick and were pointedly moving away from you.  Then I leashed the dogs, spoke for a little while with another owner, and left.

For your reference, every dog at the park tonight was a rescue of one kind or another.  I am assuming that Snowflake has only the best blood lines and was purchased for at least four figures from only the most reputable breeder.  (It’s a shame the same can’t be said of you, his owner.)  If I am wrong please feel free to tell me.  I’m sure you will.

In closing, Geoff and I have decided that we will return to the dog park.  A mouth breathing intolerant brat such as you cannot chase us away.  But, from now on we will return only when we’re together.  You see, a cowardly nincompoop such as yourself would be hard pressed to verbally go after two people, let alone contend with two of us if your foot ever comes near either of our dogs again.  That leads me to also wonder what on earth the woman who comes to the park with you can possibly see in you.  I can’t imagine what qualities you may have in private that would compensate for your behavior in public.

Pro Tip: There is never a time in which it is appropriate to kick a dog.  Ever.  Even if there is a dog fight going on (an actual fight, not a display of dominance) there are other, better ways to break it up.


*Snowflake is not the dog’s real name.  As the dog is guilty only of having bad owners his name has been changed to protect him.

6 thoughts on “An Open Letter to the Pile of Human Excrement Who Tried to Kick my Dog at the Park Tonight”

    1. Yeah, that guy is a dick. We went to the park last night and I was able to point him, his wife, and “Snowflake” out to Geoff. We had a nice walk around and Dash got to place with other dogs. It was gratifying to see that the people who witnessed his egregious behavior were giving him a wide berth.

      Dash is fine, thank you, but he is slowly re-learning his doggie skills. One day he’ll walk nicely on a leash and he won’t greet other dogs with too much enthusiasm. Until then, each walk is a learning experience.


  1. I’m too outraged for words (relevant ones that express my outrage, anyway). You have my mostly speechless outrage beaming your way in support.

  2. Fuck that guy and all animal abusers. You guys sound patient and loving and I’m sure you’re great parents to your furkids. I’m glad the actions of one inconceivable arsehole aren’t stopping you from doing the stuff you love. 🙂

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