Have You Ever Been Accused of Killing Someone?

I think the way a lot of people start their blog, is by saying how long it's been since they last blogged. I'm not going to do that today. But I will begin by telling you that this is another blog about Brutal, my dog. 

As you, my friends, family, employers, fellow bus riders, the man at my corner store, and everyone I see at the Carroll Park Playground already know, I bring my dog everywhere. He is usually either pulling so hard on his leash that he gives himself "reverse sneezes" or he's screaming at other dogs from his little carrier, which I carry on my shoulder. 

Today, Brutal walked quite a bit because Porter wanted to attach the leash to his pants so he could be walked by Brutal. And just like any other day, Brutal was in his carrier when we went into stores and to get lunch. He was walking/running with me to the bank after work so I could deposit my check. But he happily jumped in his cozy dog bag when we got to the bank. 

This is where the story gets more interesting for you, my loyal reader.

I walked into WaMu on Smith Street around 5:30 this evening. I set Brutal down on the bench so I didn't have to hold him over my shoulder while I waited second in line for 20 minutes. You know, Washington Mutual employees are so slow and no matter which branch I'm at (in N.Y.), they take forever with each customer. You might call that good customer service, but I just think they're fucking retarded. Anyway, as I'm being helped by this sweet Middle Eastern woman, a very elderly couple walk in, right as the bank is getting ready to close. They stop by the entrance to make sure there is time for them to be helped. The kind, but goofy teller with glasses, hides the fact that he is annoyed. 

As the old couple walk by, Brutal goes crazy! He's barking and shrieking so loud and hard that his carrier topples over and rolls off the bench and onto the floor. I'm so pissed and embarrassed that I don't notice the old lady lying on the ground on her back. Her husband was yelling and pointing to her and trying to get someone to help. Everyone rushes over to her and I quickly forget about Brutal. There's quite the scene to be seen. Someone calling 911, all the employees crowded around her, watchers watching from the window, and the best part, her husband yelling at me. I was so in shock at first that I didn't even realize what he was saying.

I was being accused of killing his wife. Well, not me, my dog! He was telling me that Brutal's sudden tantrum scared his wife so badly that she had a heart attack.  He was threatening to sue me and saying that he was going to put me in jail for good. WHAT?! I don't even know what I was thinking at this point, I was just hoping she wasn't dead. I really wanted to run away. Before I could argue with the geezer, he was calling the cops. I was trapped. If I left, it would seem like I knew I was guilty. I never hated anything more than I hated Brutal at that moment.

After sitting in the middle of all the chaos for what seemed like hours, we hear a mass off sirens blaring. I didn't move from my bench and I didn't pick Brutal up off the floor, instead, I quietly cried as the cops, firemen, and paramedics crowded the lobby of the bank. It took only seconds for them to tell us that the woman is dead. The husband is hysterically yelling and crying and I can only make out a few words; "PLEASE!" and "DOG!" 

We took the ordeal outside, where the cold air made me so stiff that my neck felt like it would snap if I moved. I was questioned for a few minutes and forced to give the coppers all my information. The old man disappeared with the ambulance and flashing lights, onlookers stared straight at me, and all the lights in the bank turned off. I was told that the husband would most likely file a lawsuit and that I would have to register Brutal in N.Y. and update all his records. 

I was so upset. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to kill Brutal for killing that poor old bitch. Was it really his fault? Was I really going to be the one to answer to this lady's untimely death? But it was her time. She was really very very old. 

Actually, none of this happened. Brutal did walk Porter, I really did eat Cheerio's, and I did take Brutal to the bank and leave him on the bench in his carrier. BUT there was no old couple, no one had a heart attack, and I was not told that I was going to be sued. While I was in the bank, I thought to myself as Brutal quietly cozied up in his portable bed, "What if an old lady walked in and Brutal barked so loudly and suddenly that she had a heart attack and died? Would I get in trouble? Would they try to sue me? And if they did, would they win?" A bit silly, I know. But I thought it would make a good story to tell you's. 

Well, I hope you enjoyed this tall tale. I certainly enjoyed writing it, although I struggle so badly with punctuation and past/present tense. As Bryan has admitted to over-using certain punctuation marks, I will also admit to totally over-using the COMMA. I love it. 

Thanks for reading.

bye