Elvis & Priscilla are officially on my shit list
Thursday, 1 May 2008 23:31![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fatrockstarAs I walked outside to fill my bird feeder this evening the dogs next door were going ape shit. I was curious if my slab-o-concrete was holding up at all but when I looked I didn't see it. This was not a good sign. Just as I thought that, Priscilla stuck her head out of the hole she dug under the fence and started working her body through it. I lost it and chased after her, yelling. She was aggressive but backed back in to her side of the fence.
From what I could see she just continued to work on that fucking hole all goddamn day long after I covered it, and then through to the next day. The garden liner had been dug out onto my neighbor's side of the fence, and the concrete was nearly there. I was livid at finding that nothing had slowed this dog's digging down at all, a fact not made any better by both dogs barking non-stop. I was yelling at the dogs to shut up, even though I knew it wouldn't do any good (like I said, I was livid).
After a string of really loud obscenities (classy, I know)I realized nobody in the house was coming out to see what all the commotion was. There weren't even any lights on in the house. Did she leave her dogs outside all day? What parent of a five-year-old isn't home at 8pm? Seriously -- what the hell?
I was still pissed off when I went into the front yard to get the garden hose spool. Two doors down some of my other neighbors were gathered in a driveway, talking. None of them were the offending neighbor. I'm sure I gave them plenty to talk about.
In the back yard I attached the hose and sprayer and walked over to the hole in the fence. When Priscilla stuck her head out I drenched her. I did this every time she got close to the fence, whether it was under it or trying to press her face through the half-inch spaces between slats. I kept this up for ten minutes until there was a nice little pool in the hole she had dug and she was no longer coming after me.
It didn't occur to me until after I'd turned the water off and gone inside that if this dog was as dense as its owner it probably stuck its face in the mud after I left. The only thing that keeps me from feeling bad about that is knowing a muddy dog will be sleeping in that house tonight, probably on someone's bed.
When Garret and I moved into this house two and a half years ago the yards were shit. They were covered in weeds and moss, and had patches where grass no longer grew. With the help of a good landscaper we managed to turn everything into something rather nice. No bare patches, very few dandelions, and the moss is all but gone. The only thing we weren't able to really take care of was the area by the fence. You can probably guess why. I worked too hard on this yard to have a dog come in and fuck it up by digging.
Fine. If Priscilla wants to crawl under the fence she can until I can pour concrete into that hole. In the meantime I plan on leaving the gate open. Maybe another escape will get my absent neighbor's attention. God knows she's never home when any of this is actually happening.
From what I could see she just continued to work on that fucking hole all goddamn day long after I covered it, and then through to the next day. The garden liner had been dug out onto my neighbor's side of the fence, and the concrete was nearly there. I was livid at finding that nothing had slowed this dog's digging down at all, a fact not made any better by both dogs barking non-stop. I was yelling at the dogs to shut up, even though I knew it wouldn't do any good (like I said, I was livid).
After a string of really loud obscenities (classy, I know)I realized nobody in the house was coming out to see what all the commotion was. There weren't even any lights on in the house. Did she leave her dogs outside all day? What parent of a five-year-old isn't home at 8pm? Seriously -- what the hell?
I was still pissed off when I went into the front yard to get the garden hose spool. Two doors down some of my other neighbors were gathered in a driveway, talking. None of them were the offending neighbor. I'm sure I gave them plenty to talk about.
In the back yard I attached the hose and sprayer and walked over to the hole in the fence. When Priscilla stuck her head out I drenched her. I did this every time she got close to the fence, whether it was under it or trying to press her face through the half-inch spaces between slats. I kept this up for ten minutes until there was a nice little pool in the hole she had dug and she was no longer coming after me.
It didn't occur to me until after I'd turned the water off and gone inside that if this dog was as dense as its owner it probably stuck its face in the mud after I left. The only thing that keeps me from feeling bad about that is knowing a muddy dog will be sleeping in that house tonight, probably on someone's bed.
When Garret and I moved into this house two and a half years ago the yards were shit. They were covered in weeds and moss, and had patches where grass no longer grew. With the help of a good landscaper we managed to turn everything into something rather nice. No bare patches, very few dandelions, and the moss is all but gone. The only thing we weren't able to really take care of was the area by the fence. You can probably guess why. I worked too hard on this yard to have a dog come in and fuck it up by digging.
Fine. If Priscilla wants to crawl under the fence she can until I can pour concrete into that hole. In the meantime I plan on leaving the gate open. Maybe another escape will get my absent neighbor's attention. God knows she's never home when any of this is actually happening.
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