DMorgans Zoo Revisited: In the neighboorhood.....

I was going to get my mail. I love my mail once I have a good idea that all the bills are paid for the month and nothing aggravating should be in my hovel of a mail slot. We have cluster boxes for our mail, it's a semi-hotspot for people to gather and make small talk as it's also right in front of a dog park.

Being so, one gets to know who their neighbors are and their accompanying pets etc. Everyone knows Kylee and Simon so it's a social circle not unlike the chatter you see at a school yard including the occasional "which one is yours?" followed by "The one that isn't being a good listener." Conversation that is interchangeable with either location.

I got my mail (hey, I got free mayonnaise in the mail on Saturday - who knows what would be next, maybe a covert mission to have me build a sandwich piece by piece, but that's a story for another day). As I pull the letters from the box a kid - and I say kid but he's taller than me by a foot and wider than by two feet but I'd guess he's early teens. Hard to say as he doesn't raise his head or look anyone in the eye. The kid has two dogs, both I want for myself but the tan one is just a kick-ass little dog. 25 pounder maybe? The other dog is more boxer looking but also a good beast. The tan one is on leash and the other one tastes freedom. Always, that's always how he has them. He once said it's because Little Dog a bit too hyper and young.

His boxer-like dog is in route back to him after having trotted to great Bella. The little dog is straining on her leash because she's happy and wanted to know what things were found by those not on a leash. I've slid out my mail and said hello to Bella's mom as they pass. Kid is petting Angel for returning then kicked little dog.

Not hard but ... how hard does a dog need kicking? None, right. Fucking none. He then looked up quickly - proving he damn well knew that anyone who saw would not think kindly.

My arm still raised with mail in my grip, just about the right height to give him a good pop to the kisser, calmly in a normal volume and normal tone said "You shouldn't kick your dog."

I didn't call PETA, I didn't freak and make a scene. But. C'mon, fucking seriously? He mumbled something under his breath about her not listening and to not tell him what to do. As mentioned, no eye contact, so clearly no interest in having a conversation with someone he sees often about what a complete fucking douche thing he just did. I replied in same even, same volume tone "You shouldn't have to be told not to kick your dog."

I don't want to tell someone what not to do, especially the god damn obvious.

Little dog, un-phased - clearly learning from being kicked - wagged her tail and grit in her claws to concrete to say hello to me, which I always enjoy of Little Dog. I did ask her name once, but he really does mumble and it wasn't important enough to ask a second time.

Who IS this kid? This guy?