Dog Daze

Listen, people fortunate enough to have dog companions. If I see one more of you dragging, pulling, yanking, or otherwise jerking your dog around without the slightest regard for the fact that it is hotter than hell outside and the fact that a dog’s body is covered in fur and the fact that the dog cannot fend for itself due to the restraint of a goddamned leash around its sweet neck, I’m going to wrench you by the neck, force you to your hands and knees, remove the collar from your dog’s neck, tighten it around yours, grab the leash, and start running as fast as I can. I don’t care if I sweat my own ass off in the process; I’ll run your fat, sorry ass all around town to make my point. And when you beg to sit still, when you whimper to just rest for a moment because, goddamnit all to fucking hell, it’s HOT on your palms and knees, I’ll tug harder. I’ll tug more furiously. I won’t listen. I’ll give you as much respect as you show your dog and treat you with as much love and mercy.
I know it’s hot, and I know none of us really want to be outside in this crap. I know it’s oppressive, I know it’s hideous, I know it’s all sorts of not so great things, and I know we’d all rather be at home in our underwear, drinking lemonade while seated two inches from a 100,000 BTU air conditioner set on its highest setting. I know. I know. I know. But just because it’s a big motherfucking drag is no reason for you to drag your dog.
And they call these the “dog days”?