April 11, 2004

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

Let's chat about my neighbors, shall we? Our neighbor to the north is the owner of the local towing company. I can look out my dining room window and see every car wrecked in this county for the last six months. Additionally, I can see a large Rottweiler that has been chained to a wrecked car ever since we moved in a year and a half ago. This poor dog doesn't get to come in at night, no one ever plays with it, and it has not been off that chain once. These people have at least 3 other dogs besides the Rottweiler: Toby, the idiot Boston Terror...Terrier, I mean; a German Shephard that evidently gets to live inside, and something we call "The Chicken Dog." Neither of us has actually seen the chicken dog, but it makes its existence known by bouts of frenzied yapping that sound a lot like a coop full of hens in full cry. There are several teen-aged boys in this family, and they make themselves known by riding dirtbikes up and down the driveway for hours on end. They never go anywhere but the driveway.

To the south are the Crackers from Hell. They've wandered over several times when they've seen us in our yard. It sounds awful, but I'm sorry: if you don't care about yourself enough to put your damn teeth in when you go visiting, I don't care about you either. Stay home. These people are the reason I planted three hawthorne bushes along that side of our property line this weekend. Nothing says "Back Off" like several prickly shrubs, don't you think?