A few posts back, I mentioned The Lady Who's Not Into Dogs.
She has repeated her dramatics to the extent that now, she is my nemesis.
If I were just a shade more evil, I could secretly snap her picture and post it here on the Internet for all to see, for she traverses the very ground outside my domicile right now as I type. Thankfully, a sliver of my honor remains, and I have suffered her to power walk another day, my friends.
But that doesn't mean I have ceased to loathe her.
For she hath, in the parlance of modern-day kitchen warriors, "kicked it up a notch."
Now she walks not alone, but with a young man, some son or perhaps grandson of her lineage (I cannot logic why else a man of that age should accompany her on Sunday strolls at 8 am, although I shudder at my imagination's gibberings).
As they walk, the man carries a staff of some kind of shiny metal with purple plastic rings at intervals. Though its appearance is silly, it is about 3 feet long and and at least an inch in diameter and could be used to bruise someone about the head and shoulders, or conceivably, knock a small dog senseless. For all I know, it could be the Weapon of Doom of the Order of the Shiny Stick-Wielders Guild, since indeed, these folk are strangers to me in all else but hatred.
So a few Sundays back, I and Pip the Mostly Harmless Puggin Pup are walking along minding our own business. The LWNID and Her Champion approach. Because the Champion has apparently taken a cologne shower before walking, Pip starts sniffing the air a bit as I reel him in on the leash. I always do this so that there is NO chance he will get near her as they pass. As I'm walking past, he RAISES THE STICK ABOVE HIS HEAD, while looking down at my small, cute, member of the toy group as if he were a slavering dire wolf.
Hot rivulets of Anger Dam burst forth in some rather explosive leaks just then.
I turned around and looked at them both, incredulity in my eyes. They looked at me as if such behavior was rational and expected, in light of the fact that I was parading Cerberus himself about this park.
I continued walking, trying to keep my police record clean.
The second time I passed, he raised the stick a little lower.
I continued circling, wispy rationality barely chaining in my impulse to initiate fisticuffs with the both of them, darkness whispering to the yellow and chocolate labs who approached to rip free of their leashes and go on a rare human-mauling spree.
Finally, I decided that the LWNID is clearly crazy at some level, and the Champion is probably forcibly nagged to accompany his dotty mom on her morning exercise.
So when I saw them again today, stick in hand, I and Pip went another way.
Peace and harmony through avoidance of your nemeses, I suppose.
It's a bit early in the day for blood on the hands, anyhow.