“Mr. Wedge, the dogs bark when you’re at the fence,” I said. “They are dogs. They are protecting their property.”
“I can’t even work in my own yard without listening to these damn dogs bark all day.” The man was obnoxious. He was always complaining about the dogs. It was either the barking or he smelled their dog shit. Or their fur blew into his yard, which was a new one for me. They were all shorthaired. The man would shit his pants if I had a Pyrenees or another longhaired dog.
“Mr. Wedge, I put up cameras so I can keep an eye on things,” I said and pointed to the camera pointed at my backyard. “I get a notification of noise or movement. I did hear them bark a couple of times, but it was most definitely not all day.”
“The city has a noise ordinance!”
“Yes, they do,” I said. It was the same conversation we had at least once a week. He was worse than Peppy barking. Every time I sat out on my patio, I had to deal with this man bitching at me.
“Are you going to get rid of them?”
“Nope,” I said and took a bite.
“That pitbull is dangerous!”
“Then you should probably get back from the fence,” I told him. “That’s my fence. I put up that fence to keep my dogs in and nosey neighbors out.”
My fence was placed right along the existing fence. Mr. Wedge pitched a fit when I proposed a new fence to divide our properties, so I had one installed that would keep the dogs in and keep him from peering through the existing chain link. Unfortunately, with the way the yard was, he could still peer over the fence.
“I reported them,” he announced proudly.
“For what?” I asked with disgust.
“Barking! I can’t live with all that barking!”
I rolled my eyes and got to my feet. “I would suggest you not talk to my dogs. They are out here all the time without a peep. It’s you. You get them riled up. They are dogs! Don’t talk to them and they won’t talk to you.”
“I’m not the only one that’s fed up with these dogs,” he said. “There are rules. Dogs can’t just bark all day.”
There was no point in arguing with him. I had proof they didn’t bark all day. I was glad I did because if he did get animal control involved, I was going to need to prove he was lying. He was still bitching when I walked inside. The dogs rushed in as well. It was like they wanted to get away from him too. I put the plastic cover on the dog door to keep the dogs from going out tonight.
My lovely neighbor had ruined my appetite. I tossed the remaining food into the trash and took a minute to load my breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. “Well, guys, that’s a bummer. Don’t take it personally. He doesn’t know you. If he did, he would know how awesome you all are.”
They didn’t seem to be all that bothered by Mr. Wedge’s constant complaining. The man hated animals. It was hard for me to understand that line of thinking. How could anyone hate animals? It felt unnatural to me. He’d complained about everything I did from the moment I moved in with just Kona. Then we added Bryce to the family and the man almost died. Over the last couple of years, we had hosted dang near every critter on the earth. I even got lucky enough to have a little pig for a week, until she was adopted.
There was no point in trying to convince Mr. Wedge to be nice. He was a bitter man. The joy in his life came from making my life miserable. If it wasn’t me he was picking on, his animosity would shift to someone else. Was it wrong I hoped someone would move in on the other side of him to take the heat off me?