Most dogs hate skateboards.
Or skateboarders. The distinction is unclear, because I am way too busy controlling my dog to make detached observations.
My dog goes ballistic at the first sound of those tiny wheels rolling over the concrete. Even before the board and rider are in sight. This leads me to suspect that the dog hears in the rumble-and-clack some unspeakable threat or insult. I listen for it, and sure enough, I can imagine the board is flinging a stream of curses — fukyoufukyoufukyoufukyou — and what animal brain would not attack back under such insane and senseless assault.
For my animal brain, it is not skateboards that speak so, but honking car horns. If I am calmly waiting for a pedestrian to clear the crosswalk before turning and the car behind me starts honking, my only desire is to put my vehicle in park, get out of the car, and attack his tires. Or piss on them. Or both.
It’s no good telling me to ignore the idiot. How do you ignore someone honking his horn at you? Impossible. How do you not attack. Well, when there are skateboards around, I keep my dog on a very short leash. And since I have my own version of a leash that began with toilet training and continued at least through driver’s education, I would no more get out of my car on a busy street than I would piss on the fire hydrant on the sidewalk. Much as I might want to.
