OK. Help me out here. You all have been following the saga of Lighthouse Field.

So I am still walking my dogs out there. Not Timmy, and not as much before work, but I take the 3 fast ones out every evening. Me and hardly anyone else. Except there’s a new population in the field now. Not the homeless guys, and drunk teenagers, they’ve been there for a while, but the new dog people.

The ones that are Obeying the New Rules and Walking Their Dogs on a Leash.

Yeah. They take their dog on a walk, in the field, on a leash. Maybe a flexi leash, or maybe a 6 footer. Tied on to their dog. And these ones, maybe will smile at you, maybe avert their eyes. One lady started whimpering at me the other night about how brave I was and that she is scared of the rangers. I told her I really haven’t been seeing them in weeks, especially near sundown. She wasn’t swayed. Said she couldn’t afford the ticket. I told her she can “work it off” with Friends of Lighthouse Field. And no one has actually gotten a ticket yet, that I’ve heard of at least. She wasn’t swayed. She said they were scary when they had told her to put a leash on the first time. She wished me luck and pulled her dog along in it’s pinch collar. It was growling. It’s bad on a leash.

Then there’s a new type. The ones that are smug, and apparently happy about the leash law, and have the gallbladder to say, “Don’t you know your dog is supposed to be on a leash now?” It’s happened twice. The first time I just kept moving, thinking I must have imagined they said that. Who would say that? In Lighthouse Field?

Last night, a 50ish couple, in LLBeanwear, sturdy shoes and fleece vests, walked by me. Keep in mind, hardly anyone walks in Lighthouse Field anymore, 33 acres of vacant overnight, where once hundreds of people walked their dogs every single day. And this evening, I had seen a few people with their dogs on a leash, one guy and his kid with their dog free, some hippies that looked mightily stoned off their gourds, and some totally inbred looking guys drinking beer and talking about their baseball hats. They liked Gustavo and offered me a beer. I am in the minority out there now. And I didn’t stop to drink with the redneck guys.

The LLBean lady says to me, “They’re supposed to be on a leash now.”

I stopped. I turned around. I looked her dead in the eye.

“Leash. My. Ass.” Maybe I said it kinda loud. With dramatic pauses between each word. Tone rising each word. Maybe a smidgey bidgey not so Nice.

They both just looked kind of googly eyed for a count and then they scurried on. They had a big tan dog.

What has happened here that people are just rolling over, belly up, and taking it? I am so totally not getting it. I’m going down clawing and kicking and screaming. It may be a sinking ship but I’ll sink with it. And now, the people that like dogs are split into 2 groups. The ones that Obey and the ones that Don’t Obey.

It’s one thing if someone without a dog that is a tattle tale, rule following type says it. That happened down at the beach one night, and I just said, “Over my dead body am I putting my dogs on a leash down here.” I think my tone and the glint in my eye was freaky and they just moved away and left me alone. They had kids. I sounded deranged and manic. They were probably happy it’s not a dog beach now, except for the few of us that are ignoring the state’s decree. I just grabbed a stick and threw it for the dogs for a long time while they watched.

But when the dog people become speaker phones of the bureaucracy, something is weird. Something is off. Something is upside wrong. It feels like the ship starting to go down. Remember in Titanic and Leonardo DeCaprio is holding on to a chunk of wood and he turns blue and I guess he is saving Kate Winslet or Celine Dion and he dies? Did they save anyone? I forget. That ship sunk. But he hung on til the bitter end, all blue making makeup and all. Good thing I have nice claws.