True Life: My Dog is an Asshole

I am on this new fitness kick! I swore off the smokes, the soda and the energy drinks. I even started running; which I force myself to love. Yes, force myself. Brainwash myself by repeatedly thinking “this is fun!” as my legs begin to burn. Today it was beautiful and I decided, “Hey! I will take the dog for a run! What better running partner than my furry four-legged best friend?” Can I just say that this was one of the worst decisions for a fitness partner I could ever make? I think Honey Boo Boo’s mother would make a better jogging partner than my damn dog.

So, we went to a lovely little dog park with trails behind it. I was feeling super excited and energetic, so was Stella. She dragged/pulled me onto the trail. I liked that! That is what you need in a fitness partner, someone who is excited to push and go! So I started getting SUPER pumped! Yeah, #fitness, I couldn’t wait to hit the trails with man’s best friend!

As I stopped to stretch a bit, Stella went into drag/pull-on-leash violently mode. Okay, a little unsafe not to stretch before a run, I dug her intensity though. Down the trail we started to go, without properly stretching, I am over that because the rest of the “jog”, if you would even call it that, was far worse than making sure my hammies wouldn’t cramp.


All of a sudden, twenty seconds in I might add, my arm is pulled half out of socket because there is stuff to sniff on the side of the path. Twenty seconds into our run, we are standing there while she sniffs a bush. Stella gave me a look that I can only describe as the “This is the spot” look before squatting and marking her territory. She continued this stop and mark routine for half of our path, each time yanking my arm a little more out of socket. She successfully made sure every fifth bush was Stella-scented, i didn’t even know her bladder could hold that much territory marker fluid.


When she wasn’t trying to tear my arm off there were other lovely things she did. Oh! Like when she decided to take lead suddenly on our run. Screw running beside you, let me run in front of you! Except my dog isn’t fast. At all. Now not only do I have a sore arm but my dog tried to trip me up by slowing way down in front of me suddenly. As my foot came up and met her torso, she released a how dare you yelp. I got halfway through saying “what the fu-” before I went tumbling to the ground. The dirt and gravel ground. As I sprawled out in the sunlight she casually looked at me and marked her territory some more before pulling on the leash, because me laying there in pain was holding her up.

SO, I get back up and we continue on our way. Everything was good for about ten seconds. This is when Stella decided she wanted to run back and forth in a Z-like formation like she was dodging bullets. Here I am, trying to hold my dog, who is possessed by Cujo, as she does some evasive maneuvering.

Guess what came along. Another jogger and their dog. Their unleashed dog.

Stella goes crazy, because we HAVE to meet these people.  She charges the other dog with the excitement of a thousand puppies. The other runner doesn’t even stop. Just keeps running and casually yells, “Ignore her, come on girl” to her unleashed and now skittish as hell dog. I am left here with half an arm and my dog pulling with all 90lbs of her body. While this runner continues on and her scared dog runs to catch up. You would think with the dog and jogger gone Stella would continue our journey. Nope. She stood there, rigid, for a good minute until they were out of site. Finally I get her to move on, when another jogger runs by. Guess what happened? Stella decided we HAD to introduce ourselves. This happened every single time we passed these people. Every. Single. Time. Three times if you are counting, which I was because they are forever burned into my mind.

At this point all the sweat I have is from trying to contain my psychotic and impulsive dog. I am tired, my arm hurts, and I am pretty sure I scraped my knee from when wannabe Balto decided to lead the way. I quit attempting to jog, and decide to just walk for a little bit then take her into the enclosed dog area. As we are walking ANOTHER unleashed dog comes our way with its owner. This was awesome. A mother and her son walking their unleashed dog. The kid decides it will be a real hoot if he throws a tennis ball in the direction of my dog. This prompts his dog to come barreling my way. Stella goes into ready to spring mode as a ball whizzes past her. I am now digging my feet into the ground just to hold her from blasting off after this ball and other dog. The mother sheepishly apologized, which I had to respond with an, “Oh don’t worry about it!” while in my mind I thought “I hate you, your child, your dog and that tennis ball!”

Look, not to get into what people should do with their dogs but maybe could you leash them? This isn’t because your dog is a nut, it’s because mine is. We actually have a leash law in this town, which is why I hadn’t let Stella run with the wind! Apparently this was the lawless part of town, because no one on the trails had leashes anywhere in sight. So here I am, the only law-abiding citizen (impresses even me folks) in the seedy part of town where people let their Golden Retrievers roam freely. It was time to get out of this ghetto place where soccer moms broke laws and anarchy ruled, I needed to get to the safety of the enclosure.

I had given up on jogging with my stupid dog, was headed up the trail to the enclosure when Stella decided she was thirsty from going insane for a half hour. She was the tired one. She also might have needed to refill her marker fluid. There was a little pond next to the trail, so she went over to get hydrated and re-up on fluids for more bush peeing. As she was sipping, I took the opportunity to kick her into the water, which was very amusing. Yes, I kicked my dog into a small pond because she sucks at being a fitness partner. I don’t even feel bad! My dog was a jerk today. All I wanted was to go in a circle for twenty minutes and now I have to ice my rotator cuff and apply Neosporin to my knee. And the kicking her in the water thing that was so amusing? Jokes on me, when we got home the first thing she did was jump on the couch. With her muddy paws.

True Life: My Dog Is An Asshole

I kick my dog


(I didn’t kick her that hard, calm down PETA)

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18 comments on “True Life: My Dog is an Asshole
  1. You committed the “try to do something nice” sin. No good deed goes unpunished. If they were really man’s best friend, they would be a little more considerate. Just sayin’.

  2. We can start a “My Dog is an Asshole” support group. Love them dearly but I’m pretty sure they have designs on creative ways to take me out. And not on a fun doggy date. Like, laying crumpled at the bottom of the basement steps because their furry asses ‘accidentally’ push me down kind of out. I feel your pain, my friend. -xo3T

  3. This made me smile and laugh. Reminds me of my dog, Streaker, and how I always thought I was taking her for a walk when really was the other way around. 20 years since she passed, and still miss her so much. thank you for the memory.

  4. Omg I can totally relate!!! Only dog I could jog w/was my pug Louie (RIP). Believe it or not he was a great jogger…ok a good fast walking dog lol But really Where The Heck do they do get l tht pee!!!!!

  5. Favorite – “wannabe Balto”….leave the bitch home next time. I also get peeved over unleashed dogs in public places. My dog is basically a 90lb gorilla on a leash and she goes bat sh*t crazy whenever she sees another dog….and not in the friendly I want to be your buddy way….no my dog is like….come near me and I’ll cut you and your human. Two words “invisible fence”. Good luck dude.
    Bryce Warden recently posted…Sippin’ the Kool-AidMy Profile

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