One of my post-rainstorm rituals is, I go around to all my stash spots to make sure all my stuff stayed relatively dry. Also, I got all the bags sealed up, and have to un-seal them. Because if even a few drops of water gets into a sealed bag, it can turn to mildew and ruin an entire bag of clean clothes.
So this morning I’m at one of my stash spots nestled in the bushes on the Berkeley campus. It’s right by this fence, and on the other side of the fence is this big green field. This young guy is over there with his dog, letting it run around in the field. This beautiful big white dog. I don’t know what breed. Alaskan husky? Anyways, the dog hears me rustling around in the bushes and comes running over towards me to investigate, barking it’s ass off the whole way. The dog is well over 100 pounds and could do some damage if it wanted to. But I’m mostly concerned the dog is going to blow my cover and draw attention to my secret stash spot.
“WOULD YOU GET YOUR FUCKING DOG!!” I shout.
The guy calls out to his dog. And the dog starts run- ning back towards him. But then it turns around and comes charging back at me, barking the whole way.
I quickly packed up my stuff and got out of there, yelling over my shoulder as I left: “YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT.” I could see the guy and his dog slinking off in the distance. With a little luck I ruined his morning.
I immediately regretted cursing at him. Because the dog really wasn’t doing anything wrong. It probably just thought I was a squirrel or something. But what can I say? I’d been dealing with the rain non-stop for the last 48 hours, I was muddy and tired and hungov- er. And frankly I was on a short leash myself. And if somebody barks at me, I’m liable to bark right back.