You were the male oaf with an East Coast accent at Costa Mesa Bark Park’s space for small dogs with a large, playfully aggressive pit bull puppy that took a liking to my two small dogs. I soon realized your dog’s behavior was more than my little dogs could handle. I scooped them up and headed for the exit, but your non-neutered, horny little boy kept lunging up my side at my dogs, and he forcefully humped my leg. I tried some verbal commands, all of which your dog ignored. I held the dog at bay with my foot, but I couldn’t walk to the exit, as the pup was up on me as soon as I moved.
It’s too bad you were busy smoking cigarettes on the other side of the park with your buddy and couldn’t call your dog off me. A kind lady finally pulled the pup away so I could leave. When you finally realized what was going on, you stepped over to the exit. And when I told you the dog was too big for the park, you gave me some bullshit: “This is a puppy park, and this is my puppy being a puppy.” Normally, I’d stop and explain the dog park rules to a dumb fuck like you, but all I could sense getting would be into an altercation, so I split.
In case you know how to read and see this and want to stop contributing to giving pit bulls a bad name, dig this: It’s not a “puppy park.” It’s a park for dogs who weigh less than 30 pounds, as well as some disabled or elderly dogs. And it’s a smoke-free park.
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