Monosyllabic Pedantry

Monday, February 13, 2006

Won't you be my neighbor?

I'm convinced that I'm turning into the crochety old man of the neighborhood. I have an ongoing feud with whomever occupies the house behind me. I think it was built on an asshole buriel ground or something. It's gone through three groups since I've lived in my house and there have been numerous confrontations with all of them, usually over dogs.
Being a dog owner, I think I'm pretty damn understanding when other peoples' dogs misbehave. I understand that dogs bark and get loose. It happens. You try and prevent it, but sometimes it happens.
Sometimes, my patience works against me because I lie in my bed and listen to the dog bark, and say to myself, outloud, "Are they fucking deaf? How can they not hear that? How can they be so inconsiderate. I've got to work in the morning!"
After an hour of winding my spring ever tighter, I snap and get dressed. Usually, something bad happens after that.
The first person who lived there left her dogs in the muddy backyard 24-7. Now the current occupants are doing the same. I already have a chip from my previous experience.
If you leave a dog alone in the backyard all of its life, it gets bored to death, as any multi-celled organism would. As surely as night follows day, that dog will start barking at anything, including itself just to remember that it's alive.
I can not go into my front or back yard without my neighbor's dogs running to the fence and barking at me, generally THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME I'm out there. This wears on my patience considerably.
Tonight, I was taking out my trash and the 5 cases of empty beer bottles from Superbowl weekend. The whole time, there was PeeDee barking his fool head off at me. Finally, I snapped and yelled, "All right PeeDee. I get it. Shut Up!"
Then I heard my neighbor calling the dogs into the house, with a tone that told me that she heard me and didn't want to talk to me about it.
They've lived there 6 months, and I've only had to yell at them one previous time, which is doing well. I think this time it might work.


  • This post makes me very sad for your neighbors' dog.

    I do like when you write about dogs, though. Maybe I was wrong. You are not a libertarian poet; you are the libertarian Jack London.

    By Blogger Aunt B, at 6:22 AM  

  • What do you mean by "turning" into the crotchety old neighbor man? You have been out of that cocoon for some time now, little butterfly.

    By Blogger Sarcastro, at 10:08 AM  

  • You're one to talk, Mr Wilson.

    By Blogger Exador, at 12:58 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

counter stats