Beware of belligerent dog owners who can't control their own canines
So I come home from learning how to cook Thai peanut noodles with Jennie de la Vega and Kelsey of Phi Mu at Mama Bird's granola after work in Athens and see a young couple who I have never witnessed walking - well, attempting to walk really - their dogs through my lovely Morgan Manor Estates subdivision I call home.
The young lady is wrestling her dog on the right or southern side of Katie Lane and seems to have a pretty good handle on the situation, while her dude, who we shall call Georgia Smoke Jumper Porterfield was at a full sprint trying to catch his dog around the corner into Jeremy Drive. Lucky for him the scent of Sophie - the dog who belongs to the Gwinn family - stops the run away pooch in its tracks and he is evidently able to get his leash back on the dog.
When I come home, the first thing I always do, is let my elderly Georgia black dog/pit bull Josephine out to do her business in the yard. The neighbors across Katie Lane from where I live (the Knight family) have at least five dogs and sometimes more and aside from their harmonic howling, they are pretty well behaved for the most part. The rowdiest of their Weimaraner dogs decided she was going to jump their backyard fence and come have a look see at these folks and their alien dogs walking up and down the street. Fresh from his testosterone overload from sprinting to capture his run away pooch, Georgia Smoke Jumper Porterfield decides it time to fight the home turf dog and starts charging with dog in hand to engage the Weimaraner. I tried my best to diffuse the situation but evidently got the dander up on young Mr. Porterfield while the Weimaraner wanted nothing to do with any of this. Porterfield starts telling me I should not tell him what to do, and I quickly corrected him and said as long as I am in my yard watching this buffoonery continue, I damn sure will tell him what to do and how to do it as long as he seems incapable of handling his own walk, yet alone anything else.
A few more "howdy do's" were exchanged as he sulked off toward the setting sun. I tried to reassure him that I am actually on his side in this scrap, but he was having none of it. To the credit of the young lady who is the same age as assistant softball coach Knight across the street, she said nothing and did nothing to make the matters worse for any of us. Kasey's mom came out and gave me the real estate low down on who lived where and who owned what and why on earth these people need to learn how to control their animals. In the meantime Josephine could care less and is taking her afternoon constitutional in her favorite area of the front yard of my corner lot, far removed from the would-be fracas of some dog walkers in heated exchange. I hope Halloween is not this crazy on Katie Lane.
I am grateful for having honest, reliable, dependable and decent neighbors such as the Knights, the Gwinns and the Marbuts as my immediate neighbors. I hope young Mr. Porterfield has second thoughts about trying to fight dogs or yell at people in their driveway trying to do the best they can to keep the peace in a pretty decent neighborhood all things told.
The young lady is wrestling her dog on the right or southern side of Katie Lane and seems to have a pretty good handle on the situation, while her dude, who we shall call Georgia Smoke Jumper Porterfield was at a full sprint trying to catch his dog around the corner into Jeremy Drive. Lucky for him the scent of Sophie - the dog who belongs to the Gwinn family - stops the run away pooch in its tracks and he is evidently able to get his leash back on the dog.
When I come home, the first thing I always do, is let my elderly Georgia black dog/pit bull Josephine out to do her business in the yard. The neighbors across Katie Lane from where I live (the Knight family) have at least five dogs and sometimes more and aside from their harmonic howling, they are pretty well behaved for the most part. The rowdiest of their Weimaraner dogs decided she was going to jump their backyard fence and come have a look see at these folks and their alien dogs walking up and down the street. Fresh from his testosterone overload from sprinting to capture his run away pooch, Georgia Smoke Jumper Porterfield decides it time to fight the home turf dog and starts charging with dog in hand to engage the Weimaraner. I tried my best to diffuse the situation but evidently got the dander up on young Mr. Porterfield while the Weimaraner wanted nothing to do with any of this. Porterfield starts telling me I should not tell him what to do, and I quickly corrected him and said as long as I am in my yard watching this buffoonery continue, I damn sure will tell him what to do and how to do it as long as he seems incapable of handling his own walk, yet alone anything else.
A few more "howdy do's" were exchanged as he sulked off toward the setting sun. I tried to reassure him that I am actually on his side in this scrap, but he was having none of it. To the credit of the young lady who is the same age as assistant softball coach Knight across the street, she said nothing and did nothing to make the matters worse for any of us. Kasey's mom came out and gave me the real estate low down on who lived where and who owned what and why on earth these people need to learn how to control their animals. In the meantime Josephine could care less and is taking her afternoon constitutional in her favorite area of the front yard of my corner lot, far removed from the would-be fracas of some dog walkers in heated exchange. I hope Halloween is not this crazy on Katie Lane.
I am grateful for having honest, reliable, dependable and decent neighbors such as the Knights, the Gwinns and the Marbuts as my immediate neighbors. I hope young Mr. Porterfield has second thoughts about trying to fight dogs or yell at people in their driveway trying to do the best they can to keep the peace in a pretty decent neighborhood all things told.
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