Hello. It’s me.
Yeah, I don’t look too happy, do I?
There I am, running across the street (Dad tells me to “hustle” when we cross the street, so I hustle), when I come across a pleasant appearing middle-aged woman. I smile, as only I can.
She looks down at me, then looks up at my Dad, and says, and I quote word for word (please use your own version of a condescending tone, and please imagine her face turning bitter like she just found out her only choices for President were Trump or HRC):
- “Yeah, yeah, we all get it, your name is Dash and you are so darn cute. Geez.“
She then made a motion with her right hand, a dismissive waving motion no less, you know what I’m talking about, right? That’s how she finished her dismissive sentence.
I haven’t been so offended since a random ginormous poodle-mix clamped me to the ground a week ago, jaws locked around my tender neck.
Look, I get it. The middle class is eroding, and nobody is standing up for hard-working folks. Our Government has been bought and paid for by special interests. And the plot for ABC’s “Once Upon A Time” has steered into an unrecoverable hole. There’s a lot to be upset about.
But do not, I repeat, DO NOT take out your frustrations on a 6 3/4 month old puppy trying to hustle across the street so that traffic may progress smoothly. Just like you, I’m trying to keep my feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.