Which sets you back more: a dog leash or someone else’s hospital bill on your credit card? Consider that when you meet me this evening on my nightly stroll around my Las Vegas neighborhood. You can’t miss me: I’ll be the one clutching my chest, grateful I’ve already purchased my cemetery plot.
Just as your big, darling mutt gallops toward me. Barking. Snarling. Salivating.
“Don’t worry—he’s really affectionate!” you’ll tell me, trotting up behind Fido or Beelzebub or whatever you call him as your sweet-as-sugar pooch regards me the way a K-9 guard dog regards an escaped drug czar, leaping around, blocking my escape.
I’ve already had the massive myocardial infarction, but thanks for allaying my fears. However, if you could dial 911 as I crumble to the ground, that would be wonderful.
While they affix my oxygen mask and check my wallet for next-of-kin info, might I ask why you insist on assuming that I’ll love your fang-baring angel as much as you do—or, more to the point, that he’ll love me as much as he loves you? Or, even more to the point—has anyone ever taught you the concepts of personal responsibility and consideration of others, both of which would apply to keeping Spot or Throat-Shredder on a leash?
They tell me I’m going to survive after some hospital time, nursing care and doctors who charge in the hundreds just for saying hello.
Credit card number and expiration date, please?