I. Don't. Believe. I. Saw. That.

Okay, first all the words I wanted to scream across four lanes of traffic (But would have done absolutely no good). Don't read the next sentence if profanity offends you....

"You stupid, clueless asshole Fuckhead!!!!!!"

I'm driving home, doing okay, although the roads are a little crowded. We're doing about 40 miles per hour, and I see a rather nice low-rider Harley going the other way. Driver had a helmet, is steady, and seems to have a yellow bag slung over the saddle behind him. I keep grabbing glimpses of the bike as we pass because, well, I *am* a Harley freak and will take any chance I get to check out a good machine.

It's a good thing I follow defensive driving rules, because I almost lost it when I realized what I was really looking at and could have rear-ended the car in front of me other wise.

It wasn't a sack. It was a full grown golden retriever with it's ass hanging over the left side while it hunkered down and held for dear life onto the seat with front paws. Half the dog was over the side. I'm not sure what the hell its back paws were on, but I could imagine where they would go if its grip slipped...hot pipes, tangled in the saddle bag straps, drug along the pavement...

What asshole makes their pet perch on the back of a motorcycle? Especially when it obviously cannot fit on the seat? I don't care if the excuse is 'Well, Rover has done that all his life and knows how to hang on'.

Bullshit. All it takes is once, you moron. Once for those back paws to slip, once for you to jerk your bike just the right way to send 'Rover' tumbling off the bike at 40 miles an hour...just once to kill, mangle, or maim your pet for life.

If I could have turned around without causing an accident myself, I would have. But by the time I could...the idiot was gone.


Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.......