Kujo

If you read my last post, you know Izzy and I recently went on a lovely spring walk, but you don't yet know that pre-teen heckling was the least of our worries. At the end of a cul-de-sac, a prissy little toy poodle wandering unsupervised in its yard spotted Izzy. Izzy also spotted said prissy poodle. Said prissy poodle starting barking its prissy head off and bolted for us.
Dogs off leash (except in a dog park or your own securely fenced backyard) are one of my big pet peeves. (Get it? Pet peeve? Like pet as in dog? Hee, hee.) I don't care that you think sweet Princess wouldn't harm a fly. She is still an animal, and even if she doesn't attack me, my dear sweet Izzy will in fact attack her. To Izzy, the Scholzes are a pack; no one gets in, no one gets out. She'll walk up to a stranger person and ask for a scratch behind the ears, but she doesn't like stranger dogs in a serious kind of way. Visions of poodle guts sailing through the clear spring sky fly through my head, and I yell at the poodle, who has the stupidity to prance on up and sniff Izzy. I jerk poor Isabel around, choking her to keep her from lunging and kick the poodle, who expertly dodges and then again stupidly approaches Izzy.
You may have heard me say I only run if I'm being chased. Well, my friends, today was one of those rare instances. That darn poodle chased us several blocks, too. I know the little goober probably thought it was a big, bad wolf chasing us away, but au contraire... That poodle has no idea that I saved its unleashed life.
Moral of the story: Golden retrievers are better than poodles.