Letter: Dogs in the aisles
As I was heading up the grocery aisle, three young females were heading down the aisle with a puppy on a long leash.
The pup was up in a shelf smelling the goods. The girls pulled the leash, saying “git out of there.” I backed out.
I asked a store worker, “Do you allow dogs in here?”
He said, “Did you see a dog?”
I told him, “You answered a question with a question!”
He replied, “You need to see _____.”
I went to the service desk and asked, “Do you allow dogs in here?”
The clerk said, “You need to see _____. That’s his department.”
_____ appeared and asked, “Can I help you, sir?”
“Do you allow dogs in here?”
“We do if it’s a service dog. Was it a service dog?”
“I don’t think so. It was up in a shelf smelling around. But now it’s right there laying on the floor. Do you think it’s a service dog?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t asked them yet.”
“Well, they’re checking out. Are you gonna ask them?”
“No, I’m not.”
I went home without groceries and called the store manager.
Next week, same store, a woman was walking a dog by the meat counter.
“You got another dog in here,” I told the manager.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“It’s right there with people petting it.”
“Oh, I know that lady.”
“I’m talking about that dog. Does that look like a service dog to you?”
“Well, she told me it was.”
A man picked up a can of soup, and Ole Rover drove his nose right up the man’s rear end.
“Have you ever seen a service dog trained to do that?”
He walked off.
If either of those was a service dog, I’m on my way with Troy to put windows in the pyramids.