I can’t remember if I wrote about the neighbour’s dog or if I silently ranted in my head for days about it, but I’m pretty much done with being silent.
On some winter morning, I went outside with the dogs, sans glasses. I was on the north side of the house and the dogs were having a shit fit on the south side of the house. I shuffled my way around to the other side to see what was going on, and I found some guy standing at my fence with a big, fugly dog. The reason I was outside without my glasses was something woke me up after 2 hours of sleep and I just wanted the dogs to pee and go back to bed. They were seriously riled, and it turns out, I was, too. I said something polite like, “What the fuck are you doing?!”
“I’m letting the dogs meet each other so they can be friends.”
Okay. There is an empty lot between this guy’s house (it isn’t actually his house, it’s his mom & dad’s house, who are great neighbours, by the way) and my house, so there is no need for the dogs to meet and be friends. Besides, my dogs are about as friendly as I am and they don’t want to meet anyone new. Nor do I.
The dog is some ugly people/dog killing breed, who has been relatively good for the last few months. She stayed in her yard and didn’t bark much. Lately, however, she has decided she owns the neighbourhood and she’s working on getting her head bashed in with a log. A couple days ago I got out of my van and bent over to pick up a log, which had fallen off the wood pile, when I heard a rushing sound behind me. I turned with the log in time to catch her charging me, so I charged her ass out of my yard and halfway across the vacant lot. I DO NOT put up with bullshit dogs, and if she had stood her ground, the neighbours would have been digging a hole for her.
My dogs are not saints. They bark at people, but unless someone is threatening me, they will not charge a person.
Today I was catching up on my reading when I heard an odd sound from outside. I went out on the deck to see what it was and saw the across-the-street neighbour wrestling a wind blown bag of trash in his truck. His little Pomeranian was out with him and, fuck me, if that ugly dog didn’t charge down the street after the little dog. My Pom was killed by a pit bull and I had flashes of the same thing happening again, so before I fainted, I yelled, “HEY!” He turned, saw the other dog, and yelled for her to stop, which she did, but she stood in the road deciding what to do next. I was ready to come off my deck and decide for her, but he said, “Oh, she’s a really friendly dog. She’s okay.”
Yeah. Tell me that when you are picking up pieces of your dead dog.
Dogs who charge are NOT friendly.
Dogs who charge are NOT okay.
It’s only a matter of time until someone is crying.