When walking clients' dogs, I’ve learned to keep my wits about me; not for coked-out squirrels or sidewalk scooter demons, but for people. Some folks will make a beeline towards me and the dog like I’ve got the last Infinity Stone.
If they don't say anything I'll either cross the street or pick up the pace like I’m escaping a World War Z zombie. But eventually, they will say something like, "Can my dog say 'hi?'" Or, "I think my dog knows that dog."
When I first started out I felt the need to go into this long Shakespearean monologue about why I couldn't allow it. “Alas, the limit of my insurance liability doth prick the sides of my intent, and prudence doth beseech me to bid thee and thy hound fare thee well!" Now I just say, "Not my dog. Sorry," and keep it stepping. “Alas, Brevity is the soul of wit.” But ain’t nobody trying to be funny. People get downright offended when I tell them ‘no.’
In one instance, a woman walking her tiny Maltese, kept coming towards me. After I politely told her to please don’t approach, she copped a snarky attitude and said, "OH! Like my little dog could hurt yours?!" I calmly replied, "No, I don't want your dog to become my dog's Scooby Snack!"
Sometimes the truth is all the poetry you need…Alas!
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