John Delach

Mary Ann, Maggie and I travelled from Port Washington to Sanibel Island five times from 2000 to 2004. We  managed to convert our dog from a sickly and horrible car mate into a road buddy, Maggie added to our adventures. Back then the two Carolinas didn’t allow pets to stay in local motels. We avoided those states by  making our first stop in Emporia, Virginia, the last town before North Carolina and our second stop in Brunswick, Georgia, south of the Carolinas.

Both were dog friendly. On our last morning, fed, walked and ready to roll, Maggie would complain about these boxes we stayed in the past two nights and this rolling box we traveled in during the day. She’d verbalize her dissatisfaction with a combination of sighs and whines before settling down.

Although, our morning walks on the beach were perfect adventures for Maggie, I recognized  that I was breaking a local law by letting Maggie off the leash. True, but keeping my water-crazy Golden leashed on the beach would have been impossible. Taking our walks early in the morning and leaving the beach as soon as possible once we reached the public park was my game-plan to minimize confrontation with a non-dog lover or someone with an authoritative bent.

I thought this out, understanding that when somebody confronted me for Maggie being off leash, they would be correct to do so and I couldn’t challenge them on the facts. I considered different approaches until I found what I hoped would work if I could pull it off.

When this confrontation actually transpired, I was prepared for it. Maggie and I had just emerged from the woods onto the state park beach, when I caught sight of a couple walking toward us. We were still close to the surf and they were about half-way up the beach. Normally, I would have leashed Maggie at this point and headed inland, but an instinct told me to leash her, but stay near the surf.

Sure enough, the man walked away from the woman and headed in our direction on a diagonal path, despite her protestations not to do that.

 Oh shit, I said to myself, Here we go! Okay, you’ve got this down. Give him hell, John.

My protagonist quickly closed the gap between us so I chose to stop, tighten

Maggie’s collar to bring her close and wait for his assault. He didn’t disappoint. Instead of stopping far enough away to maintain respect for my space, he aggressively stepped forward occupying it.

Self-righteously, he proceeded to lecture me on my violations against the local laws for the proper handling of dogs on the beach. I let him lecture me until I could sense that he was running out of the energy to sustain his own self-serving indignation. Then I struck!

First off, as I began to attack him, I stepped toward him while lifting myself up to my full height. He gave way as I took a more aggressive step. I continued to close in on him making him uncomfortable. I lifted my right arm into the air and commanded: “You are correct, it seems I have violated a municipal ordinance, but this is nothing. What you should worry about are the laws of God!”

At this point, I took another step toward him, again, forcing him to give way: “Do you believe in your Lord, Jesus Christ? Are you ready to be saved? Have you repented? I ask you one last time, HAVE YOU REPENTED!”

One look told me that I had reduced him to nothing more than the jerk he was. With that, I turned Maggie away from him  and we walked away at a rapid pace leaving him behind. As we left the beach. I looked off to where his wife stood and it was obvious, she knew he had it coming.

As we walked off the beach, I told Maggie, “Another good day in paradise. We’ll do it again, tomorrow.”