I Won't Pet Your Dog, and I Won't Say Hello

After a holiday season that included unhealthy eating of the most unnecessary degree and a minimum of actual movement, I finally rang in the New Year sensibly with an hour and a half long trail walk in the mid-morning hours. The blanket of fog blowing across the path made the barren trees and tall grass all the more eerie, and I played music in my headphones to fit the circumstance. Of course, while trying to become one with my cerebral extensions, I found myself gingerly avoiding the onslaught of fellow walkers with dogs leading them into my path in the opposite direction. I probably came across ten or so dogs over the course of this walk, and only two of them were on actual leashes: the pair of dachshund wiener dogs you could probably fit in a pillow case. But obviously, the medium to large dogs were either completely off the leash or, in sad attempts by the owners to be responsible, hooked up to those extendable wire leashes that allow their pets to walk freely for like 25 feet in any direction. At one point, I rounded a corner and was met by a big wolf-looking motherfucker with one such leash, who proceeded to get in a crouch upon the site of me and growl. This thing looked like it was built for the Iditarod, not the morning leisure stroll. I took a step back and waited for an owner to do something about it, but when my eyes followed the leash down the path, I saw a small woman standing still, waiting for ME to do something. She was uncomfortable with my presence, and I grant her fairness in some respects. I am tall, shaggy, and I habitually walk with purpose so maybe that can be construed as criminal behavior. Having said that, I could see she had no intention of reeling her dog in to let me go, so I had to walk well off into the side brush to continue. She still wouldn't move as I approached, staring me down the whole way. I said ,"thanks for that" as I passed, then turned around to see her start walking again.

I can't tell if I prefer that type of encounter when walking or the more frequent occurrence of the unleashed dogs running freely towards me. I admit most times these dogs are harmless and would probably welcome my petting, but I am at a point in my life where I simply don't see the positives of reaching my hand out to a strange animal. At the moment, there are only two dogs in the world I will touch without a second thought. All the others can piss off. On this walk, I would see dogs coming at me, and I didn't know what their mindset was. I would step to the side while the owners caught up, they'd smile at me with that, "don't be a little bitch" look and continue on. I don't give a shit. I don't know you, I don't trust you, and you have a big animal with teeth roaming at will. Basically, eat my ass. I was bit by my friend's rottweiler in high school, my mom had her arm shredded by a friend's dog more recently, and about six months ago I came across a stray with no tags on the very same trail who made a charge at me while barking. I had to pull the alpha male thing and run right back at it while yelling, so it knew who would win. And I should put my hand out haphazardly to find out if your dog will accept? No, thanks.

Finally, I don't understand the constant social requirement of passing walkers to say hello to me and thus expect a cheery reply back. I just want to proceed down the path. I don't care about greeting you. Is it because we share the physical act of walking that you feel the need to say something as you pass me? Like we've been through some sort of joint effort at the same time that it requires acknowledgment? We both got up this morning, put on a pair of shoes, and went outside. That's the extent of it, can we please move on now? I completely ignore people when I pass them. I want my focus to remain on my music and the scenery, not your chipperness. I hear people say hello as I pass, and I don't care. I want to be left alone. I'm walking alone, you're walking alone, let's keep it that way. I like people walking in pairs, because they have each other to bother with and aren't as inclined to say anything to me. Happy fucking New Year.