I rescind my request to be friends. I now officially hate you with a passion. There isn’t room enough for all of us. You can leave!
Trixie and I were coming down the elevator. We got to the third floor and it opened. Trixie thought maybe we were getting off, so stood up and stepped forward. In response, what you did, you little shit, was uncalled-for. You sprang from your inept handlers’ grasp, there were two of them, and jumped on my dog. You left your slobber all over her shoulders, neck and chest. She screamed. She did nothing to provoke your aggression.
All the two lugs could manage was “shit.” and “sorry.” Sorry? I appreciate the apology, but sorry does not even cut it. How about “handler 1 will take our little hell hound back to confinement in the apartment where it belongs, while I will check your dog over for damage and accompany you to the vet if necessary.” That would have been good. “Sorry” as they held onto you, their little shitball dog and waited for the other elevator as mine descended out of sight left me seething.
I had 3 people check my dog over to see if you left any damage, and it appears you did not. At least there was no damage on the visible spectrum, but that’s no guarantee. Attacks like this *can* retire a dog. I did notice that when the elevator opened at the bottom, she was slightly afraid to step out. Hopefully this won’t grow into anything bad.
Mylo, don’t you dare mess with my dog again, and don’t you dare mess with Rosamae either. She’s coming tomorrow, and so help me, if you do that to her, there will be hell to pay for your handlers. Go learn some social skills, you little shit.
An angry, shaken Carin and Trixie