An Enduring Feeling of Guilt...

I have an insane love of dogs. I bond with dogs. I have 2 dogs, and we go to Central Park every day. I began making friends with the puppies and dogs who befriended my schnauzer puppy, Beethoven, who is now 7 years old. He recognizes them and does his happy stubby tail/butt-wagging dance. They recognize me and jump on me, kissing me, often to their owners' horror. I have been nicknamed the Mayor of Central Park, because I know so many of the dogs in my Upper West Side neighborhood.

Many of my friends who have dogs like their own dogs quite well, but don't bond with other people's dogs the way I do. I'm kind of proud of it, but also really and truly love most dogs I meet. There are a few special ones who particularly bond with me. A friend's sheltie mix, Rusty, serenades me with howls (a-woo!) when he sees me. A Welsh Terrier, Dewey, sees me sitting on a park bench, and jumps on me and gives me a body hug. Nina, a gorgeous golden labradoodle, leans against me and fans me with her gorgeous tail. I have a special relationship with quite a few of my Central Park dog friends. My own two dogs are not jealous of this. They seem to accept it with grace and aplomb. Yes, I am anthropomorphizing, but I’m also accurately reporting on this phenomenon.

A dog I used to like quite a bit, who was one of Beethoven’s puppy friends, is a rather large golden retriever I'll call Sally. I say used to like her because, when Sally was younger, her jumping on me wasn't a big deal. But in the past few years, now that she's large enough to knock me down (and almost has several times), she is also food-centric. If I'm drinking a take-out cup of coffee, she'll knock it out of my hands. If I'm eating a croissant, she'll knock me down trying to get to it. Several times, I asked her owner, who I'll call Ed, to keep her on a leash or pull her away from me. His response has always been that this is my fault. I've learned, though, that Sally has bitten children several times, whether they're eating or not, the youngest being a toddler. Ed has a knack for talking his way out of this situation, and shifting the blame for Sally's bad manners and aggression on to others. After all, she's only "being a dog." Since Central Park is a venue for food vendors, picnics and other food-related activities, this is a dangerous attitude, and one that many of my dog owning friends do not share.

Reluctantly, with much persuasion from me and a friend who's a professional dog trainer, Ed agreed to keep Sally on a leash while walking her in Central Park, especially in places where I'm usually walking every morning with my dogs off-leash before the 9 a.m. witching hour. While I do love dogs, I'm not particularly fond of being knocked down, so I kept a particular look-out for Ed and Sally. I also felt I had done my part in helping protect children and other people who might be the victims of Sally’s aggression, and hoped for the best.

One Saturday morning, last Thanksgiving weekend, Sally attacked me, knocked my coffee out of my hand, and this time she bit me several times. She was once again off leash. I started screaming for Ed to grab her; he stood nearby watching with a crooked smile on his face. The group of men he was talking to turned their backs on me. I started screaming, "Get her off me," and I think somebody eventually did, although I can't recall who, since I was in shock at the time. Since I was wearing a heavy winter jacket, only my hand was severely bitten. The jacket was stained with coffee and mud from Sally jumping on me, but fortunately  not stained with my blood.

When this happened, I lost it. I started screaming at Ed that he was a menace, and he started yelling back that I was an idiot. This slowly devolved into a shouting match. I won't print here the language that was used, since when provoked I can swear like a truck driver. Once again, Ed blamed me for the incident. I pulled out my cell phone to call 911, but was too shaky to dial. Ed eventually leashed Sally and left. A friend joined me a few minutes later, and while I tried to ask others for Ed's contact information, no one would provide it. Even a woman whose sons (10 and 13) were there, who told me Sally had bitten her younger son unprovoked, refused to help me file a police report, saying she didn't want to be responsible for having Sally destroyed. My friend told me to stop obsessing about it and started walking away. It wasn’t until later that morning that I realized how scared I had been, and how unresponsive the people watching the incident were. Having never been afraid of dogs in my life, I felt like something had changed – my daily routine, my feeling of safety, and my friendship with the people I saw every day in Central Park. I started having nightmares about the incident. And I started dreading going for our daily walk in Central Park.

Over the next few weeks, I asked everyone I knew who knew Ed for his last name, address, or phone number, since such information is required to report dog bite incidents to either the NYPD or New York Department of Health. Everyone I spoke to demurred, saying they didn't want the dog destroyed, that Ed was harmless and hapless, and that they didn't want to get involved. I contacted 311 and was told without this information there was nothing I could do. The NYPD told me that a dog bite had to be reported within 24 hours, and without this information, the report couldn’t be completed. I felt defeated and saddened that this important part of my life, my daily walk in Central Park with my dogs, and my love of the dogs we met there, wouldn’t be the same. I was embarrassed and couldn’t face the people I’d seen every day for years. Eventually, I stopped taking my dogs to that part of Central Park and found another area to walk them. I made new friends, and slowly, eventually felt less frightened.

Until a few months later, when Ed started stalking me. Several times while walking my dogs in Central Park in different areas, I noticed Ed and Sally nearby. I changed the direction of the walk several times; each time I saw them appear in the new area.  A few times, Ed waved, or said hello. Every time I saw them, I turned around and walked away, until one day in March, Ed approached me, with Sally on the leash, and said, "Susan, when is the cold shoulder treatment going to end?"

I moved away from him as quickly as I could; he followed.  I finally said, "We're not friends. Your dog is vicious. When you see me in the future, turn around and walk away. I'll do the same. Stay away from me." We walked away. After that, Ed and Sally stayed away from me. But several people who were aware of the situation, a few of whom I considered good friends, tried to persuade me to turn the other cheek and give Ed another chance. My position, no pun intended, was "Once bitten, twice shy." But it always stayed with me that I couldn't report them for the dog bite and aggression. And I was concerned about this happening again.
Two weeks ago, I ran into an old acquaintance, Susan (whose dog Bruce and my Beethoven were puppies together). Her arm was in a sling and she had bandages on it. I asked her what happened. She told me that she was sitting in Central Park with Bruce on leash (it was 6:30 a.m.) and a big unleashed golden retriever attacked her dog, biting Susan as she tried to prevent her from attacking Bruce. Susan was knocked down and was not only bitten several times, but also broke her wrist on the large rock she had been sitting on when the dog attacked her. The dog was Sally. Ed was sitting nearby reading a newspaper. He didn't pull his dog off Susan or Bruce. Susan told me she called 911. By the time the police arrived, Ed and Sally had left.

Susan has a broken wrist and several large puncture marks in her arm, and needs surgery to repair the damage. She has filed a police report. She tracked down Ed and Sally's address and gave it to the police. I gave Susan the information for the New York City Department of Health, the agency that deals with dog bites and aggressive dogs in Central Park, so she could file a report with them. She gave me Ed's contact information, and today I filed a dog bite report with the DOH online (which you can do up to 2 years after an incident occurs). I offered to help Susan with her case. She was overwhelmed by my offer of support, since many people she knew in the park told her not to pursue this, since they know Ed, and he's "basically harmless."

For a few days after I saw Susan, I felt horrible, and was preoccupied by the incident. Then I got really angry, especially at the people in the park who knew Ed and refused to help prevent an incident like this from happening, and who do anything to prevent this from happening again.

I’ve lived in New York City my whole life. I love it here. New York City is full of all kinds of different people. We all have to live together and get along, and usually we do it pretty well. For me, this time, I'm going to do something about this, so it doesn't happen again. And to the people who refused to "get involved," I don't think I'm going to be hugging your dogs or wishing you a good morning anytime soon...

We're Living In The Age Of T.M.I.!!

That's right, too much freaking information (T.M.F.I.?!?!?!). Whether we like it or not, it's out there for us to deal with whether we like it or not. And I really don't like it. Now, I don't think I'm a prude, but seriously, I long for the days of childhood when certain things were never discussed. It was so much better thSettingsat way. For example:

Went to get my salad out of the department fridge, and a colleague had left his/her Activia yogurt on top of it. Now, not only do I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaate yogurt, but can anyone here safely say that Activia doesn't connote, well, irregularity? I don't want to think about one of my co-workers having this problem. They call it brown-bagging for a reason, people, put it in a bag, and put your name on it, so I can safely ignore it, and not get grossed out before eating my lunch. Ew!

I couldn't care less what happens to Lindsay Lohan in jail. Really. Don't care how she looks in the orange jumpsuit, don't give a crap that they didn't remove her hair extensions, like they do with other, non-famous prisoners (T.M.I. squared!). Don't give a flying rat's ass that she's upset and despondent. If you can't do the crime, don't do the time! Celebrities should go to jail for their stupidity just like the rest of us. And especially, do I need to see her picture everywhere I turn on the Internet? Is it a slow news day?

The whole Mel Gibson thing? T.M.I.! I have no doubts that old Mel is a few cans short of a sixpack (and he probably is a racist/anti-Semitic MoFo to boot), but after the third tape was released, I realized the whole thing sounded very scammy to me. And guess what - that's what they're now saying it was. I never listened to the tapes online, I figured if I wanted to hear Mel go ballistic, I just had to watch one of the Lethal Weapon movies. Okay, so he's a celebrity and this is really bad P.R., but who hasn't said something stupid on the phone ... because no one is supposed to be listening? One "news" story I would gladly do without.

Now, in case you are thinking I've lost it right about now, I will disclose that my favorite cable TV show right now is Game Show Network's BAGGAGE, hosted by Jerry Springer. Not T.M.I. because they're telling you straight up that they're gonna tell you embarrassing stuff, so if you tune in, you're consenting. I laugh my ass off watching that show, especially how daters get so upset because the opened baggage says, "I don't believe in G*D" or "I sleep with rats." The one occasion where there can't be T.M.I. is when you're about to date someone, when Jerry Springer's hosting the show (you asked for it!), and especially when the show's called BAGGAGE! Did you think it was a HSN promo for Louis Vuitton? NOT!!!

I do tend to think the show runners over-dramatize perfectly normal baggage to get people to have a loud, noisy, obnoxious reaction, but if you ask me, Game Show Network was created especially for that purpose. The fact that they don't use profanity, and are putting it out there pretty straight-forwardly, I can respect. Sure beats the heck out of those dating websites, no?

In case you're reading this and want to email me your thoughts about it, great, but remember, don't include T.M.I. or I may have to mock you mercislessly in my next note. You've been warned!!!

Susola
XOXOXO

P.S. please feel free to add your T.M.I. candidates below. Just keep it clean, people!