Walk from Hell

I have been extremely frustrated with Brenda lately. Her unpredictability has been driving my sanity over the edge. Because of my schedule this week I’ve been walking her around noon, which is a big mistake, because that’s when the most delivery people, lunch goers and construction crews are milling about. Brenda has been particularly erratic around strangers and there’s only so many treats I can throw on the ground in an effort to divert her attention.

I really fell off the deep end yesterday when I was trying to remove Brenda from a potentially disastrous situation. We were in the middle of a long walk. I was trying to get her quickly from the busy neighborhood over to a nice walking path along the West Side Highway. We were almost there. I had just ignored someone asking me if she was a bad dog. Just walked away and pretended I didn’t hear the question—even after he yelled at me as I continued on my way.

A few minutes later, I saw a young couple with a little pit bull puppy walking toward us. I hate myself for thinking this, but the thought crossed my mind that this couple had no business with a puppy, let alone a pit bull puppy. I am sorry to admit that this situation with Brenda has made me prejudice. I feel like her abuser is walking the streets and I could encounter him or her at any time. Everyone I see has become suspect.

Brenda got agitated as soon as we spotted the puppy and so I tried to quickly cross their path. It didn’t work. They turned down the same block I did and Brenda stopped. She is very wary when people follow too close behind her. At this moment I ran out of treats to throw to her, and the female half of the couple came up to me—I think to ask if I had an extra poop bag—when Brenda snarled and growled and barked at her. The woman said “oh, that’s a mean dog.” I looked right at the woman and said “shut the @#%# up” as nastily as I could. I still can’t believe I actually said it. It’s one of those phrases at you say to yourself but not aloud. The woman looked at me and said “shut the @#%# up, bitch?” followed by more expletives and wild arm gestures that I knew I had to prevent Brenda from witnessing.

I quickly made it to the river and finished out my walk. I could hear the woman yelling at me for at least another block. I felt horrible, out of control and out of options. Today I made an appointment with another vet to see if I can finally get some meds for Brenda to help her calm her behavior.