Dear Uppity Bitch at Dog Park,

And by bitch, I do not mean female dog. I mean human who needs to relax and shut the fuck up.

So you decided to take your two dogs to the excellent Parkgrounds for the first time. Fantastic! As you walk Rufus, the 5 year old Boxer, and Ollie, the younger white Havanese, towards the entrance you can see inside. I know you can because I can see you through the chain link fence. You see me, a 50 pound transsexual, and you see other dogs my size all running around in the mud. Mud, may I add, that you knew about because when it rained earlier in the day it did so all over the city. Later, you say out loud, "[Ollie] is very playful. He likes to roll around with big dogs." So please, for the love of Rin Tin Tin, explain to me your behavior upon actually entering the dog run area. This playful Havanese of yours instantly bounds to me and another dog to engage in friendly (but not wink-wink friendly) play. He literally jumps in our face. So what the fuck is with your shocked and appalled face when we play back? At the sight of light wresting you actually got down, cradled a wriggling Ollie, and started calling out to have people remove their dogs from his presence. We were playing, woman! The panic you felt while whisking him to a safe area so you can frantically brush the dirt off his pretty white coat was totally uncalled for. You actually used the word "dramatic" to describe the 30 seconds he spent enjoying himself. You are a bitch.

Then you drag your big boxer into the human area as well and make complete strangers hold Ollie on a leash while you go inside. Why?! What terrible, horrible, no good, very bad danger lies in letting a dog be a dog? At one point when someone comes up to admire your precious, pretty lap dog, you instruct Ollie to tell them, "I'm a bad puppy." I can only assume that's a gay porn reference considering poor, emotionally abused Ollie exhibited no signs of misbehavior. According to you, "We adopted him." We? So that IS a wedding ring on your finger? I thought if you liked it then you should put a ring on it. I can't imagine anyone wanting to put anything around you but a noose you're so fucking obnoxious. This supposed husband can't possibly have the will to live anymore. You hate fun so much that the moment you walked back out carrying your Arden's Garden juice -- that was extremely reminiscent of my shit after I eat too much lettuce -- and wearing your "Peace" tank top you grab the dogs and declare, "This is a disaster." You're right. Your dog getting the opportunity to play and socialize is a disaster. Something tells me that your husband trying to turn you on is a disaster too, you uptight doily. Thank goodness you left the park immediately with hapless Ollie still trying to escape your grasp to sniff some ass otherwise who knows what sort of joy could have been had. Way to avert a catastrophe.

Get over yourself, woman. We're dogs.

Love,
Tranny Dog

P.S. You look like Justine Bateman. And that's not a compliment. She's been playing her share of hookers and drug addicts lately.