Okay now this is just straight up wacked.
First of all, that anyone would do this to their dog is a joke.
And then that there would be a law in place by which to prosecute?!
Finally the fact that they would actually issue the ticket is ridiculous.
I can think of many people who are more deserving of a ticket for pet humiliation … what about those people who dress their dogs in little fur coats? Or put their dog’s hair into a ponytail? Or make them wear t-shirts and booties? Or shave them into artistic creations?
Seriously, Law Enforcement of Boulder, Colorado. It seems to me there might be other things more worthy of your attention. Just a hunch.
Not totally related, but this reminds me of a funny experience my sister had once. I reprint it again, for your reading enjoyment:
I had an unpleasant encounter with a woman at the park today. While I didn’t say anything clever at the time, I spent the rest of the evening thinking of possible retorts. Here is the story written with all potential responses. You choose your favorite, but be assured that I picked the not-wittiest one each time:
I was playing frisbee with Donkey like I do every night when this woman in a pink shirt walked by with two hideous things on the end of two leashes. Donkey, being the friendly lab that she is, went over to say hello. There was a little bit of sniffing from both parties, and perhaps a yip or two, but nothing hostile – nothing more than natural doggie interaction. Pink, however, was getting unnecessarily flustered over the meeting, and her face was rapidly darkening to match her shirt.
“Ma’am,” she said to me, tangled in leashes and beginning to panic. “Could you please get your dog?”
“Oh, they’re fine,” I replied nonchalantly, failing to see the apparent urgency of the situation. “Donkey’s friendly.”
She looked at me, appalled. “Ma’am,” she said again, condescendingly, “my dogs are five pounds.”
I looked at her and responded:
A) Are you jealous?
C) You call those dogs?
D) Ummm . . . okay.
The dogs continued their interaction, and Pink continued her panic, now bordering on rage.
“Alright, Ma’am,” she said. “That’s it. Either you get your dog or I call the police and tell them it’s not on a leash.”
I looked at her, a bit amused, and said:
A) Yeah, well either you stop being a jerk or I tell my mom on you.
B) Teenagers are getting shot in Wal-Mart and you’re going to call the cops on my pet?
C) Hey, maybe while they’re down here they could help you get that thing out of your butt.
D) nothing. I took Donkey’s collar and walked away in silence.
Of course, being the on-my-feet thinker that I am, I chose D each time. But if I had it to do over again, perhaps things would have turned out a little bit differently.