Take Neighbour Man for instance. This spring we developed a wonderfully amicable relationship with the Next Doors based on a strong foundation of courteous nods and vague smiles exchanged at a distance. Everything was going so smoothly, until we fired up the lawn mower.
"Ya, if you wouldn't mind not mowing the lawn between our houses, that would be great. It's just that I am feeling really protective of my [big/obnoxious/white]* truck and I don't want anything to happen to it ever."
Oooooo-kay.
Lazy sods that we are, we agreed not to mow the strip of grass between our houses because hey, who doesn't like to quit mowing the lawn 10 minutes ahead of schedule? The summer progressed and soon we were chatting whenever we happened to be outside. We watched each other's dogs and I promised not to let the contractor installing their new front door steal their [old] couch and [terrifying] stockpile of firearms while the Next Doors were at work.
Then the snow fell...
"Hey I saw some foot prints in the new snow today, so if you wouldn't mind not letting your dogs sniff our lawn when you walk them past the house, that would be great. It's just that my husband, Mr Neighbour Man, is feeling really protective of his [permanently parked/broken/never going to move] truck right now and doesn't want any dogs around it."
No problem. Perfectly reasonable request. Our dogs, two of about 50 different dogs in the neighbourhood who are walked past the house daily, can certainly stand to sniff else where. Expect absolute and universal compliance forthwith, I'm sure. No dogs to be walked in front of your home. Check. Will use opposite side of street. Check.
Then, 10 minutes later...
"Ya, so did Mrs Neighbourman talk to you about the footprints we saw in the snow today? It's just that I am feeling really [obsessively/unnecessarily] protective of my [derelict] truck right now and I don't want any dogs around it."
Sure. Okay. Yup. Message received. Again. Don't hesitate to tell the 50 other families who live in our neighbourhood the same thing. Twice. Keep me posted your progress. Make a chart.
Then, 24 hours later and at the end of the worst week ever which involved, but was not limited to, Meeker having surgery, me having insomnia, Husband being away and some hillbilly wacko trying to force me off the road during a snowstorm after tailgating me for 15 minutes from my driveway which means, goody gumdrops, he knows where I live, I arrive home to see all 22 cm of snow totally removed from my driveway and Neighbour Man, standing there waiting for me...
"Ya, so I saw some tracks in the snow again today and I just want you to know I only want people to be straight with me when I ask them if they do stuff to my property because as you can see I have [fake] security cameras pointed at our property line and I am just [delusional] wondering if you care to explain yourself? I am feeling [psychopathically] protective of my [soon to be landfill] truck right now and just don't want anything happening to it ever. To show that I have no hard feelings about you being a complete liar I have shoveled your driveway. Note that all of the snow is over there and not near my [shitty fucking] truck."
Let's pause and let that really sink in.
I took a deep breath and I did what I've been trying not to do since Meeker spent the night at the hospital, since I've moved to a province no one wants to visit me in, since I discovered a grey hair in my eyebrow...
I stood there, as darkness began to fall over my quiet street, as families were emerging to walk their 50 dogs perilously close to Neighbour Man who apparently can only count to Jesse and Meeker, as I wanted desperately to run into my house and shut out the crazies and the angry drivers and Alberta and this person, I stood there, dropped my shoulders, took a deep breath and I sobbed. Great hiccoughing sobs so loud that the [rational/normal] neighours came over to make the [complete nutter] bad man stop.
It felt wonderful. As I stood there gasping and sputtering, with boogers running out of my nose, Nieghbour Man watched, horrified. It was a thing of beauty. I turned and walked to my front door saying I couldn't help them, and that boy, dog tracks in the snow, that is a really horribly frustrating thing to have to deal with. My goodness, yes. Thank you for shovelling. You've done a lovely job. SLAM.
You know, readers, I can't imagine how Jesse and Meeker left tracks on Neighbour Man's lawn while I was at work and they were home all day. In a locked house. Snoring. It's almost as though there were more than two dogs in the Universe.
Not that Jesse and Meeker will ever acknowledge it.
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| If Neighbour Man had screamed "YOU SHALL NOT PISS!" I would have at least given him points for cool. |
*Editor retains the right to add notes for accuracy. And vitriol.
