That Time I Was Impliedly Accused of Animal Cruelty

I woke up that Thursday feeling excited and nervous for my upcoming phone interview.  As my fellow post-grads know, scoring a phone interview was kind of a big deal.  The day before, I researched tips for phone interviews and, after reading a few phone interview horror stories, began to picture Dillon’s “five alarm” sharp schnauzer howl as I tried to come up with unique yet thoughtful questions in the oh-so-predictable “do you have any questions for me” section.

I considered clipping the dogs to their tie-outs on our patio, but I knew that as soon as an unwitting pedestrian walked by on the road behind the Old, Weird Townhome,  a shrill cacophony would soon fill the air and penetrate the walls.  I thought about the bathroom, the closet, our bedroom, but I knew the walls of Old, Weird would fail me with their frailty.  I stared outside of my tiny office window to our parking lot and hatched a plan and implemented it.

Phone in hand, I calmed myself down and awaited the phone call.  T-minus five minutes until the scheduled call and I hear a loud banging on my front door.  Perfect timing, I thought, as I ignored the knock.  T-minus three minutes until the scheduled call and I heard another loud thump.  I had to stop the thumping that would surely be heard on the phone call, so I quickly opened the door.  Standing before me was a man I’d never met wearing sweats, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.  I quickly scanned the parking lot and saw only my car in the direct vicinity.

I must have looked a little confused as he started the conversation in a casual, yet concerned tone:

Strange Man: “Is this your house?”

Me: “Yes”

Strange Man: “Is that your car?”

Me: “Yes it is, I’m sorry I have a phone interview in five minutes, I have to go.”

**uncomfortable silence as the Strange Man’s manner changed from friendly to hostile**

Strange Man: “Are those your dogs in that car right there?!” 

Me: “Yes, I have a phone interview in five minutes.”

Then I tried to justify my actions to the Strange Man.

Me: “They are in there so they don’t bark, they love the car.” I said.

Strange Man: Blank Stare

Me: “It’s a balmy 67 degrees out and I have the windows open.”

Strange Man: Blank Stare

Me: “I can see them from the window while I’m interviewing, they’re fine!” I exclaimed, looking for a meeting of the minds.

Strange Man: ”You’re just gonna leave them there?”

Me: ”Yes.”

******Shuts door on someone mid-coversation for the first time ever and hears the phone ring just in time.******

I lived the next week waiting for Animal Cops Baltimore to bust in my door and take my schnauzers but, alas, they did not.

Apparently giving my dogs organic food, their own doggie beds, coat and joint health supplements and every type of shot and doctor’s appointment known to man isn’t good enough for the Strange Man.

I laughed this afternoon as I gave our puppy mill rescue his twice-a-day joint medicine, sprayed his damaged coat with all-natural clove treatment, and thought about my brief almost-run-in with ASPCA.