Forgive me, I may have been rude. Wait, scratch that, I don’t give a fuck.
Today, like most other days in my sorry little life, I took my Chesapeake Bay Retriever to the beach for an hour or so of good hard exercise, after work. Our typical routine is to have him swim in the bay for about an hour, and then we walk/jog ~2 miles to help dry him off (and get me some exercise) before we go home. If you don’t know what a Chessie is, allow me to educate you.
The Chesapeake Bay Retriever is a versatile breed competing in field trials, hunt tests, conformation, obedience, agility and tracking, yet remains true to its roots as a hunting dog of great stamina and ability. The Chesapeake Bay Retriever is an intelligent breed and learns at a high speed. Historically considered stubborn and difficult to train, many trainers thought this breed required more physical discipline than other retriever breeds. Some trainers now recommend that the Chesapeake Bay Retriever owner use consistent, daily obedience training with play time before and after to keep the dog wanting to work with little or no physical discipline required.
Equally proficient on land and in the water, the Chesapeake Bay Retriever was developed along the Chesapeake Bay to hunt waterfowl under the most adverse weather and water conditions, often having to break ice during the course of many strenuous multiple retrieves. Frequently the Chesapeake must face wind, tide and long cold swims in its work. The breed’s characteristics are specifically suited to enable the Chesapeake to function with ease, efficiency and endurance.
So, they’re a hardy working dog with a metric fuckton of energy, and an unbelievable drive to swim.
Minding my own business on my little beach where I take him, oh did I mention, ALMOST EVERY DAY, I heard a tiny little “ahem, ahem” behind me. I ignored, because the dog had just charged out of the water at full speed like a hippo on heroin, and I had to put my knee up to keep him from stepping (read, crushing) on my feet with all of hs ~105 pounds.
Then, “Um, EXCUSE ME.”
Nosy: “DID YOU JUST KICK YOUR DOG??!?!?!”
Me: “Uh, no.”
Nosy: “Well I saw you kick it, hmmmm”
Me: “Actually I just lifted my knee up, but thanks for your concern.”
Nosy: “I think you need to stop.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Nosy: “You’ve been out here for a half an hour.”
Nosy: “Your dog looks tired.”
Me: “He’s not, but again, thanks for your concern.”
And I turned back to the dog and throwing his “baby” into the water. This “tired” dog is running in circles around me whining while I’m standing there talking to this maroon, and charges full bore back into the water as soon as I throw the bumper back in.
Not a minute later, I turn around and Nosy McNoserson the fucking Village Idiot is back, this time with a camera phone, taking pictures of both me and the dog.
Me: “Did ya need something else?”
Nosy: “I’m thinking I’m going to call the police.”
Nosy: “This is abuse. You’ve been out here for a half an hour. He’s breathing hard.”
Me: “Are you freaking serious right now?”
Nosy: “I’m an animal lover. I’m concerned. I don’t like to see an animal being abused.”
Me: “Lady, I think you need to mind your own damned business.”
Nosy: “EXUSE ME?!”
Me: “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Mind your own fucking business.”
She was “worried” because he makes a “whufff” sound when he breathes in the water.
A) He HAULS ASS out there, so yeah.
B) The toy doesn’t fit all the way in his mouth, so he breathes out the sides of his mouth.
C) His big freaking lips smack on the water so it sounds like he’s breathing harder than he is.
I know my fucking dog. I’ve had him for almost 5 years, and have owned one before. They will swim until they’re half drowned, but that takes… oh… about half a day of following a kayak around a lake. And even then, you have to tie them to a tree to keep them out of the water.
And now I have a dog that is annoying the everloving shit out of me, because he didn’t get to finish his exercise because I didn’t really feel like having the cops called on me for “animal abuse”. Yes, yes, because it’s terribly, horribly abusive to give my very active, very fit sporting breed dog a healthy dose of his favorite kind of exercise every day. Just horrific.
To you, you fucking asinine bag of meat! May fleas infest your pubic hair.