I was thinking this morning on my walk with Mrs. Wigglebottom again about whether I’m weird. Obviously, this is not a question I expect you to be able to answer, because it really has to do with some internal perception of myself.
I consider myself to be pretty much like everyone else.
But it’s hard to really know if one is intrinsically weird because, if one is not putting on an act or mentally ill, one cannot be unfamiliar to one’s self. And I think for some thing to be weird, it has to be creepy (a little) and strange.
Oh, Freud, I hate to bring you into this conversation, but if I am always at home in myself (heimlich), how can anything I do ever be un-homey (unheimlich, or uncanny) to me?
No, I think that, if you are in right relation to yourself, it is impossible for you to understand yourself as weird unless you have some kind of outside evidence.
Anyway, I was walking Mrs. Wigglebottom this morning and this black dog came barreling out of nowhere, unleashed and looking to make friends with my dog–Oscar was his name, I think.
I tried to keep Mrs. Wigglebottom moving, and so of course right at that moment her collar came undone and suddenly there I was in the middle of the road with a leash and an empty collar in one hand and an excited dog in the other hand. I was yelling at the other dog to back off and then finally his owner appeared out of nowhere and took his dog.
And then, America, something happened that made me so enraged I almost started just beating that guy to death. His unleashed dog comes barreling over to my dog and he starts asking questions like why his unleashed dog would run away from him towards another dog is a complete mystery to him. Or like this whole situation is my fault.
“Is your dog in heat?”
“Are you sure?”
“Did your collar break?”
“Well, my dog just loves other dogs. It’s fine if they meet.”
Y’all, I swear. Folks think pit bulls are dangerous and yet the mammal just about to fight the black dog and then lung at the neck of its owner was not the four-legged one.
If you want your dog to be outside without a leash, get a fence.
Also, I wanted to beat the collar for breaking, but I refrained, because I haven’t yet lost my damn mind.
Still, when we got home, Mrs. Wigglebottom went right upstairs to hide from me.