This is interesting, long entry, but worth the read, I do promise.
We went for the dog walk and shit yesterday, Delilah having a fascination for the one yard on the block where there is never NOT someone chilling out front sipping a beverage goodie watching conveniently downwind as my dog lays a nasty load. Even if we clean it up, there lingers a look on their faces that shows me they are cat people! Offended my dog shits out of a confined area. Much like us, once they start, there is nothing to do but be glad 6 people aren't watching YOU take a shit in the evening breeze.
I think the dog paparazzi is worse than the people who swarm new parents. At least as a parent you can say thanks for a compliment knowing you had some input on the kid turning out cute. With dogs I don't really have good answers.
"Ohh.... what kind of dog is she?"
"I don't really know, sharpei and something sneaky"
"How interesting!"
"Hm. I think interesting is the cadillac size shit she is taking on your lawn." I can't take credit for whether or not they are cute.
We then pass the house directly behind ours, which I didn't know was that house because I generally could care less and children come pouring out to check out our dogs. Little male ones talking at the same time but not saying the same thing so I recoiled quite bit from their assault but Simon was already in the grips of one of these children, being a gentleman about it.
"I like this one" the dog grabber said. "But he barks at my pitbulls."
I thought for a minute realizing I was about to get into an adult level arguement with an 8 year boy over which /cough white dog was the shit starter.
They blather on for a while more and slowly I understand these children are from different houses. One lives behind me, no pit Assholes, of Jeff's. The other next to me - many Asshole's including Jeff.
"There are lots of holes in the fence, your dogs come over and play a lot."
"I really would prefer you not let them in your yard and tell me if you find holes in the fence"
"Oh yeah well, I thought I'd just keep him for a while." (I heard keep him FOREVER) "We climb our tree and come into your yard sometimes too."
"Don't do that, seriously."
I then paused to turn a shade of purple and inwardly contemplate who was getting the first ass beating pinata style. In MY fucking yard? Taking off with MY fucking dogs? Where are these parents when their kids are scaling my fence and playing a fun game of DM Liability Lawsuit? Mr. Morgan then pulled me away knowing shit was about to get loud.
I'm gonna cut down that tree they are using to get over my fence. That's step one. Step two is making myself more unpopular with both sets of parents, each of which I've had an altercation with, by way of a letter and WAY following up. I really don't want to be the neighborhood bitch. I keep to myself but this is not ok. Read below for the prior altercations with each of those houses who I'm sure LOVE to see me coming up their walk. Stop having fucking kids if you can't control them or at minimum teach them basic fucking common sense.
House Behind Me Confrontation - Last Summer
Once last summer I heard a few thunks on the side of my house. At first I said fuck it, because I was, well, comfortable and didn’t feel like getting up. A few “thunks” later and I looked out the bedroom blinds to see rocks ker-plumking against the side of my house, my new BBQ. I also caught a glimpse of Simon the little dog, and he was visibly shaking. Well that pissed me off.
Fuck with the house all you want, but leave the dogs and the BBQ out of it. I went into the backyard and dodged another rock being hurled over the fence.
…… oh…hell….no….
Still in my work clothes (lazy remember) I climbed the fence in a silk shirt and skirt to find two VERY shocked little boys with paws full of rocks.
“What are you doing?”
/sound of rocks dropping to the ground behind their backs.
Typical of heathens, they immediately began to blame eachother.
“He was…”“No it was him.”“Liar..”“You’re the liar!”
“Listen you little brats, one more and I mean ONE more comes over my fence I’m coming to rat your asses out to who in that house that will beat you!”
Alright, I didn’t say that but it was the gist.
I got off the fence and took another look at my little dog, who annoys the piss out of me, but is more loyal than anything I’ve ever owned and I just started getting more and more steamed.
So in my silk work skirt I collected every rock that was in my yard and stomped barefoot around the block (they live behind me). All of the rocks were in my skirt like a sling and people stared and I stomped by.
I rang the doorbell for at least five minutes. I heard the TV being turned off and sounds of “shhhh” from inside so I started getting really noisy. “Open the door I know someone is in there.”
Not wanting to deal with me is understandable… but not dealing with your ill behaved kids is not. It became clear I was not leaving, and other neighbors had started to come out of their houses wondering what the fuck was going on.
The dad finally opened the door and I saw why he was leery of neighbors. I counted 3 boys in the living room, most naked with food all over their faces. This did not count the two asshats in the backyard. The father looked downright whipped and ready to die. Even the look on the dog was forlorn and silently begged me with his eyes to save him.
I introduced myself and spilled all the rocks into his arms.
“These are coming over my fence and scaring the hell out of my dogs. This is not ok.”
At that time I was satisfied but this parent seemed used to the antics of the other boys and invited me inside.
“Boys, there is someone here, come inside.”
I swear I heard one shit his pants.
Now, it was not my intention to get any kid spanked or hit, much shit as I talk, it really wasn’t. I just wasn’t certain they were scared enough of me to not throw more shit and hit a 6 pound dog. Six pounds to those not used to one, is half the size of your standard house cat. He’s fucking puny and easily startled because of how easy he gets hurt. Simon has lived in a very safe and sheltered environment, he does not know to fear things so when a rock comes flying it’s not out of line for him to think an invisible person is playing ball with him, and run at it (funny as that sounds -THWAK- it's not, he's a little beast). So yeah, I was a little fuming while trying to be diplomatic with my neighbors.
The two boys came in, saw me and “Awwww fuck!” was all over their faces. He made them apologize to me, which was not needed in any way, shit I was a bad kid too and got into shit but I always had the fear of god from my mother not to break or get into other peoples shit. And hey, they weren’t sorry, nor did I need them to be, I just wanted no more rocks flung at my dog and BBQ.
Every since then, if an item comes over my fence by accident they are too scared to come asking for it back. It’s just considered gone and they sulk inside
House Next to Me - Jeff House, Move in and ongoing....
We got new neighbors this last weekend. Renters.
I say that with venom as though I was not a renter myself, but I think we are different sorts of renters in a neighborhood that by and large, is owned and not rented. When I say renters, I think of people with too many kids to afford buying a house, and people who generally don’t give a fuck bout their property because – well, why should they.
I know it’s a shitty generalization, but call me crazy, because these people fit that description to a T.
We had hoped, really hoped that the new neighbors would not have dogs. When you own a dog the size of a New York City rat and have a 15 year old fence, new dogs can present a problem. And what do you know? They have dogs. Gets better….
Pit bulls.
Fuuuuuuck!!!! Who keeps fuckers like those anymore? It. Concerns. Me.
Being the obnoxious person I am, I of course marched over there to talk about the dogs, under the guise of introducing myself like I gave a fuck who they were. Ding dong. Nothing. Ding dong again. Nothing. I mean what is the fucking problem with people refusing to open doors when I come around?
There were two kids the street, and one came up to me and said hi. I asked if he lived there and he ignored me, flung open the door and said “Jeff there’s someone at the door.” (Jeff!! Christ). Jeff appeared about two seconds later, further indicating he had most likely heard me at the door.
I said who I was happily, then got right to the dog business.
“So I notice you have a dog, that seems to be a bit barky and interested in my fence.”
“Mm hm.”
“Well you may have noticed the fence lacks integrity towards the back corner.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh that’s ok, I promise it does. Is your dog a digger?”
“Uh.. I don’t think so.”
Don’t THINK so? Why oh why do people own animals they don’t know. I can not only tell you if my dog is a digger, I can tell you how often she likes to shit and the exact minute she wakes up in the morning to stretch.
“Ok well, That being said, I own the equivalent of a ferret, and I suspect that he would be a nice snack for your dog and I wanted to be sure this won’t happen.”
“Oh no, they seem friendly.”
SEEM? Christ almighty.
“They?”
“Yeah, we have two.”
“I’ve only seen the one.”
“Well it’s out there.”
“Ooooook. So my point is that if your dogS and my large dog decide to work together, they could dig a nice hole for the ferret to get through.”
At this point the woman emerges, with a kid on her arm and one dangling from each of her legs. Not counting the two outside on scooters, and one screaming from the back of the house. That is a fuckload too much to handle.
It occurred to me then why Jeff wasn’t all that interested in what I was saying, he wanted me off his porch.
“Right so, it was nice to meet you and if there are ever any problems we are right next door.”
Slam of door. Dick.
The man had a shifty look about him that made me wonder if I interrupted him stirring up some meth in the bathtub.
I do however know who he rents from, as I once rented from that bitch myself. When moving out and doing the inspection she actually moved the fucking stove out and docked me. What the fuck! I don’t want there to be problems, but the idea of coming home to my little Simon having been ripped to shreds scares me.
I prodded a bit to see if he would tell me the animals names, so that in a pinch I could scream something that might catch their attention but no deals. I did go out there and try to get a feel fro the dog, and it did respond with happy tail to my voice but growled at the same time. Gee that's normal.
--
That's where I left off with my neighbors. Not the best way to meet people, and I realize both were dick moves and ballsy, but I promise they'd never see me if they would keep track of their dog stealing, trespassing little brat ass kids and animals. Mr. Morgan and I work all day, I have no way to control what happens when we aren't home other than to lock my dogs inside, who have done nothing wrong. I rely on others to handle their personal responsibilities. Very curious if my sister in law has any input on this. While I play very very mean, I've been out of practice for a long time, I guess I read a fucking fortune cookie telling me to chill out or something.
-DM
He also carried a giant bunch of carnations, which to most females, unless it's junior prom, are the weed of all flowers and are grouped in such large bundles for that reason. We don't expect men to know this, since any flowery gifts are nice, but now you know.
I joke a bit, and remember most of the night, I think the only part I missed was that I woke up in clothes I didn't even remember packing, let alone putting on. Apparently between 11pm and 3am, at some point I thought I was late for a party as I woke up dressed in my best going-someplace-nice attire, but we'd already done all the going we were gonna do. Odd, but I didn't ask Mr. Morgan in fear he'd tell me I turned into one of "those" drinkers late into our evening fun. I pray I did not.
Until..............
Vintage gear or garbage from the garage? For those who don't see my expressions often, that is my look of not really knowing what the fuck to think. Didn't stop me from putting it on within about ten seconds though. Until....
