Only in West Valley

First off, I will warn you that this story contains explicit language, but I'll do my best to edit those parts.

I take Lucky on a walk around the neighborhood every morning before I go to work. About 8 out of 10 times I make sure to put her on a leash for this walk. Those 2 times I don't are because I'm in a hurry, or because I can't find the retractable leash that I like so much. This is my favorite leash because it prevents me from being dragged down the street at a dead run, looking and feeling like an idiot because my 65 lb dog is stronger than me. So this morning happened to be one of those days when I was both in a hurry and couldn't find the leash, so I decided to let her run free without it. When this happens though, she is usually pretty good about staying somewhat close to me. She'll occasionally wander off to sniff a bush or someones lawn, but overall she's not too bad.

So we were walking along, sharing my morning yogurt and enjoying each other's company, when she decided to run ahead and sniff one of those lawns. I heard some commotion involving a big burly guy yelling at the top of his lungs, and Lucky barking furiously at him so I hurried to catch up and see what was going on, and I see some filthy man chasing my dog and yelling and swearing at her. So I charge up to him, angry as ever, and I say, "What do you think you're doing!" Well he just starts yelling the F word at me, "Get that f-ing dog off my lawn!", "Put that f-ing dog on a leash, you f-ing B!", and "F you!". Well, nobody talks to me like that so I start yelling back, things like, "Excuse me, don't you talk to me like that!", "Someone needs to teach you some manners!", and "Don't use that language in front of a woman, have some respect!". So he continues to yell that one word since it was apparently his favorite to choose from in his limited English vocabulary, while I continue to lecture him on talking to me like I'm some fellow prisoner. Meanwhile, my goofy, wouldn't-harm-a-soul Lucky was viciously barking and snarling her teeth at him, and I couldn't have been more proud. He then flips me off one last time, slams the door in my face and continues yelling something in Spanish behind the door. So Lucky and I take off running because let's face it, he's probably got a gun, it is West Valley after all. On our way back home we passed two different cops driving through the neighborhood, and neither of them said a word to me.

Well, brave or stupid? I'm going to go 50/50 on this one.