What a nightmare. In the area where I live (at the moment) there are no sidewalks and everyone seems to have a dog or five, but I have yet to see anyone ever walk their dogs in the three years I've lived here. They're either tied up (all the time) or in the house allowed to bark insanely at the window or door or running their fence (where they have created a nice dirt ditch) or my favorite: allowed to roam freely. All together, these three buttfaces weigh 167 pounds. I can control them. They don't pull me, though they don't walk that slowly either. I had Judah and Israel on a coupler, so that was 132 pounds in my right hand. I have all of the dogs on a four foot leash, but usually keep them next to me. Dogs roaming around and coming up to me and Judah was never a problem since Judah isn't dog aggressive. Guaranteed I would've kicked some ass if they attacked her, but that never happened by the grace of God. Meanwhile, the owners usually don't give a shit and aren't around, or they're there and don't care. It's a whole 'nother story when it comes to Israel, obviously. The first leg of the walk was fine. We meandered through the maze of roads and avoided getting hit by cars (there aren't any new-fangled sidewalks around here). There were the requisite barking dogs, but they were contained. As long as that's the case, if I keep walking and ignore them, my dogs will too. And note, my dogs NEVER bark back. They can have a yard full of three huge dogs slavering and snarling to get at them and they just give them looks like "Whatever, punks." But it was when I was coming back that all hell, LITERALLY, broke loose. A school bus had stopped on the side of the road I was walking on. I decided to go around it, not wanting to have to fend off kids from petting my dogs even though they don't have problems with kids. It's just kids these days rarely know how to behave around dogs and I don't have another pair of hands to control everything around me. As we walked by the school bus kids screamed out the windows, "I LOVE YOUR DOGS!!!" and I waved at them. Less than twenty seconds later and I hear this annoying little bark, see a little black streak that is all too familiar, and hear kids screaming "SHELBY!!!!" Cue a 10 pound pug mix with a lame leg (this is on a main street that has a lot of traffic, I wonder how that dog got a bum leg??? hmmm....) that has gone after Israel before when we were on a bike ride. There wasn't an adult, a leash, or any control in sight of the little fucker trying to attack my dogs. Judah was intrigued, Israel and Shifra were completely in attack mode. They were both snarling and screaming because I wouldn't let them get at the little dog, though it would serve it right to get attacked or killed. Well, not the dog, but it would serve the negligent owners right. So here I am controlling over 100 pounds of dog with my one hand, keeping them right up against my legs, plus another 35 pounds in my other hand who is just going nuts wanting to get the little dog. And also note that this frustration often makes Israel turn on Judah or Shifra so I have to deal with not only the little shitty dog trying to attack my pack (she was even circling, trying to get at them!) while the kids screamed and chased after her to no avail, but also keeping Israel and Shifra from killing each other. Oh, and I'm also practically IN the street. An adult FINALLY comes outside but can't get the dog either. They're freaking out, I'm keeping as calm as I possibly can, and finally grabbed Israel by the loose skin around his throat near his jaw. That calmed him down and stopped him from lunging and screaming, but he was still poised to attack if he had to the chance. The kids meanwhile are standing there, I'm trying not to lose a flip flop, and no one has a leash for the little dog yet. Oh, and one of the little kids (they were all ten and under, at the most) was holding a little puppy. And she goes, "Your dogs are very pretty!" despite the chaos. I had to laugh and say, "Uh, thanks." They finally grabbed the dog--or so I thought--and I never walk off because the dog always follows, I don't want it to get hit by a car, nor do I need it trailing me and the dogs. Except they didn't really have the dog and when I finally moved on, it came at us again! I was on the opposite side of the street AND about twenty feet away when it came flying at us again. Oh my GOD people. Put your fucking dog in the house if you can't be bothered to control it! They are SO lucky my dogs didn't get near it. So anyway. I was not screaming, yelling, or doing anything but restraining my dogs and attempting to stay calm. I would say, "Hey!" a few times in a very stern voice, but that was it. No names, since Israel is being an animal then, not Israel. I take a street that is much quieter and doesn't have any dogs that I know of to get home. Except by the second house, I noticed a

Isn't it funny how if someone like me stands in front of some graffiti, the automatic assumption is that I am a hard-nut... well... maybe if someone else stood in front of it with gold chains and lots of bling and maybe sitting on the bonnet of a hum-v with 36" rims whilst wearing a big white fluffy fur coat made from the skins of the Queen's corgis dipped in white gold or something... Stereotypes are somewhat dangerous in my eyes... I am forever trying to push boundaries in life particularly when it comes to the boxes people like to put us in... I have been a pastor, a chaplain, a musician, a graphic-designer, a Youth Ministry consultant, a trainer, a preacher and now a Photographer. I have built a deck with my own hands and no power-tools and I am a father and a husband... I don't think people with little boxes like me very much... When I was working in England as a chaplain at a Secondary School, I was walking to my office and I got called into a Religious Education class by the teacher. He was talking about Stereotypes and wanted to ask me some questions... the dialogue went something like this: Teacher: Mr Ronberg, can you describe a typical Australian for us? Me: Certainly, they walk around wearing those funny hats with the corks dangling down... Teacher: Have you been to Australia before Mr Ronberg? Me: Why yes I have, in fact I have been 4 times to our quirky neighbour's dusty land. Teacher: Mr Ronberg, how many people did you see wearing those hats with the corks on them? Me: Why sir, I believe the answer might be NONE!!! Teacher: Wow - so your stereotypical view of an Australian, doesn't seem to be based on any reality? Me: Exactly - great point Sir... Oh sir, you know what else Australians are like? Teacher: Do tell good sir... Me: Everyone walks around wearing thongs... (uproarious laughter from a mass of 12yos) Me: (embarrassed face at sudden realisation that the english call them flip-flops and kiwis call them jandals - thong is another article of clothing worn slightly higher up the leg) So you can see - we often have stereotypes that just aren't based on reality. I have been asked for ID if I purchase a bottle of wine or a scratchy card from the supermarket if I walk in wearing a Hoody and a baseball cap... despite the fact that I am nearly twice as old as the people that can't buy such things... I have to admit though, I carry around certain stereotypes and cliches in my head that effect how I view the community and people around me... To some degree, I think it is impossible to NOT have certain stereotypes, but to the best of my ability, I seek to treat each person I meet as an individual and let them speak before I make a call on WHO they are (as if I really have the right to do that, or as if I could ever really know WHO they are)... Wouldn't it be nice if I could drive around in a humm-v and wear the regalia I mentioned above and people would really want to talk to me because of my thoughts on the struggling economy or my love for people... We would truly then be living in a Gangster's Paradise.