I’m having a bad day. It’s one of those days where I hate everything and everyone and just generally feel like they’re all out to get me for some reason. Maybe not out to get me, just oblivious to the notion that there are other people in the world, including me, and maybe the world doesn’t revolve solely around them.
In short, I’m having a day wherein people don’t seem to give a damn. Not about me. Not about anyone but themselves.
I’m guilty of this too, so I know, I know. Cast no stones. But I was just having a real day of malady and mental and physical exhaustion due to societal ambivalence. So I did what I often do — I went for a run. Sometimes that can help clear the mind, get the endorphins flowing, and help reset the day.
Such was not the case today.
Today was a “people suck” kind of day. As I was running, this man’s german shepherd pounced on me, its jaws snarling and dripping saliva, barking and clawing at me. The owner just gently pulled the leash after a few moments and said to me, “Oh, he’s friendly.”
Let me be clear — I know of no dictionary definition be it modern, archaic, or Lewis Carrollian that includes “vicious German Shepherd attacking bystander, its jaws snapping hoping to extract a pound of flesh” under the word “friendly.”
And what kind of an arrogant jerk doesn’t bother to even ask if the dog’s victim is ok? He just assumes his dog is “friendly” so I guess the claw marks are just what? “Love scratches?” “Friendship abrasions?”
There were police on both sides of the boulevard too who did nothing. They were tasked with security for David Duchovny’s Star on the Walk of Fame Ceremony and some filming happening on the other side of the street at the same time. I suppose dog bites man isn’t really shocking or newsworthy.
Adrenaline is still pumping through my system in a flight mode overload (fight never entered into the equation — in me versus German Shepherd, I don’t see any outcome where I’d come out on top).
Not a good day. Not a good day at all.
But as Scarlett O’Hara so put it: Tomorrow is another day. If I didn’t believe that, I might never get out of this funk. And as god is my witness, I will get out of this funk. One way or another.
As God is my witness, as God is my witness they’re not going to beat me. I’m going to live through this and when it’s all over, I’ll never be hungry again. No, nor any of my folk. If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again!
We do live in an age when and a place where this exists:
