Recent Justification I'm a Decent Human Being

Recently I had to fill out paperwork justifying that I'm a decent human being. I answered questions about my moral aptitude, moral compass, volunteerism, and community spirit. I had to justify why I was -- or am -- a good person. Further along in the paperwork I had to provide four references. Individuals that would substantiate my morality, authenticity, and integrity.

I have to go down the references side road for a minute. References are absurd. Who is honestly going to provide a shitty reference? "Hey Bob, will you be my reference? I know I promised I'd water your plants and get your mail, neither of which I did. And that time you pissed me off, yeah it was me who keyed your car. But I was hoping you'd say something positive about me?" Really? Come on. You're only ever going to ask the people who'll vouch for your awesomeness.

Nonetheless, I had to ask four people to vouch for me. One told me to go public in the People's Court (social media) to expose the "ass for what she is" (I'm not the ass in this story). Another wrote: you didn't [bleep] her? To which I replied: that's not part of my rehabilitation. A third wanted to give someone a piece of their mind only for me to say "keep walking" to which he replied "if I'm called, I'm going to use this incident as an example." The fourth person has been a personal reference for my awesomeness for so long, I didn't even call her to ask.

Tonight I was cleaning out old files. For some reason I've kept every certificate I've ever received. Ever. I am awesome. I have certificates proving I'm a good citizen...from 1982! I have thank you cards and certificates of gratitude from far off places, like Nepal for donating 200 lbs (yes, pounds) of clothing. I have congratulation and thank you letters from the Bozeman City Commission for my appointment and work on affordable housing and neighborhood recognition. Along with this supporting documentation of my moral aptitude, I have several, maybe 20 or more, certificates of achievement for all sorts of weird stuff. I'm certified to use fire as a means of habitat rehabilitation in the State of Florida. I am certified to save your life should something befall you in the backcountry and dig you from the debris of an avalanche. Buried in the pile of certificates was my favorite:

Congratulations! You won our drawing contest. Unfortunately, we are unable to use your artwork for our cover as it does not fit the overall message we're hoping to convey. 

Love it. I'm a winner and a loser in the same paragraph!

Filed directly behind "Certificates" was "Credit". Since purging files was the task of the evening I continued. The credit file contained things like the payoff documents for my house in Montana and Colorado, an old speeding ticket I got in Utah. And one other ticket -- dog off leash from Boulder, Colorado marked "paid". I couldn't help but laugh at the irony in finding this gem. The reason I was filling out a form justifying my worthiness all started with a dog off leash. Only this time in California.

In the old west (Montana and Colorado) dogs off leash are handled quite differently. In Colorado it costs $50. But in California you have to prove you're a decent human being. Prove your moral compass hasn't gone haywire since your certificate of good citizenship in 1982. Find four people to justify that you're rehabilitated from the heinous crime of walking a dog off a leash.

And in Montana? Well, that's a funny story. I was in Ecuador climbing and my housemate was watching my dogs in our downtown Bozeman home. He opened the door and in a split second all three dogs (one his, two mine) ran out to the street where a man was walking by. One of the dogs bit the man. My housemate felt horrible. He helped the man and assured him that the dogs were all vaccinated and that if he wanted to have the wound checked out just bring the bill back to the house. The man, in his late 70's, early 80's, went to the care clinic. He came back to the house with a receipt and knocked on the door. The dogs, SAFELY INSIDE THE HOUSE, started barking. My housemate was not fast enough getting to the door so the man decided he would just leave the receipt behind. He opened the door and walked inside. Inside the house that contained the dog that actually bit the man just two days earlier. Inside a house that was not his, his friends, or his relatives. When he walked through the door, he called out, "Hello. I'm just dropping off the receipt from the care clinic for the dog bite."

My housemate came in from out back, paid the man the $30 or so for the care clinic bill. On the way out, the man patted each dog on the head. And my housemate shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

And that is how a dog off leash is handled in Montana.

(Connie Garrett aka Samaara Robbins -- apparently still running with dogs off leash!)