I have nasty
neighbours.
And
unfriendly.
They bought
the condo next door awhile back
and the
only good thing I can say about them
is that they
have a sweet 12 year old golden.
Not that I
ever got to know the dog.
Anyway they
look to be in their early twenties.
They should
be full of life, in love and happy.
But they
are sour people.
The only
conversation I had with the young man
went like
this:
YM: Your dog barks all the time.
Me: (puzzled
because there are only two mornings
a week when
Flynn isn't with me), She does?
YM: Yeah
and my wife is pissed. She's gonna
write a
letter.
And sure
enough a note came from the condo board
addressed
to everyone but complaining about barking
dogs (and
kids on long boards).
So to try
to mend fences I've been keeping my blinds
closed when
I'm not here so that Flynn can't see any
passers-by
but the neighbours remained cold.
Today Flynn
barked and worried I hurried to the window
only to see
that YM had parked his car in front of my house
and was
lugging stuff from his place and putting it in the car.
I was
outraged.
Why the
heck wasn't he loading his car in front
of his own
place?
"You're
trying to make my dog bark!" I said.
"Yeah,"
he sneered and walked away.
I went and
got my broom and leaned on it
like the
crone that I am.
"I'm
taking a picture of this for the next time
you
complain about my dog barking," I said
and whipped
out my cell phone.
That got
his attention.
"Hey,
there's a moving van coming in a few minutes,"
he huffed.
And,
halleluiah, so there was.
Some
stories have a happy ending.
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