Don’t Talk Crap

(I’m walking my dog and he stops to do his business. After he finishes, I pull out a bag to clean it up when I hear a bang behind me. I stop, bag in hand, and look back to see a man on the porch of the nearest house, glaring at me. I’m outside of his fenced-in yard, on the strip of grass maintained by the city.)

Man: “If I see even one bit of crap on my lawn, I’m tracking you down and shooting that dog dead.”

Me: *after standing up to my full 6’6” height* “Try it, and I’ll land you in the hospital.”

(He tripped over himself running back inside. I can understand not wanting to deal with dog crap, but A) it’s not your lawn, B) I’m cleaning it up already, and C) don’t make threats if you aren’t willing to pay for them.)