And being a staunch cat person, I am naturally in possession of two large dogs. Two more beasts. As far as looks go, they're quite lovely. I'm not so blind that I cannot admit that, and if I am going to have dogs, at least they're pleasant to look upon. Pearl and Mahone. Check them out:
It's difficult to get a good picture of Mahone because he's a nervous wreck who cannot sit still for a moment. Also, I'm pretty sure he's terrified of my phone.
Back to my point, which isn't going to be made for quite some time. These two dogs came to our house pre-trained and practically debarked. Not exactly debarked because they still possess the ability to bark. They just don't utilize it very often, which suits me just fine. I cannot abide the constant yap of dogs. It grates on my nerves and only serves to remind me that they are in my house. The piles of dog fur and the stench of dog breath is enough to remind me. I don't need the noise, too. But, you know, they're cute and the kids love them. That's enough for me to wear a Badge of Long Suffering for being so magnanimous, allowing dogs to infiltrate my peaceful cat world.
Back to my point, which isn't going to be made for quite some time. These two dogs came to our house pre-trained and practically debarked. Not exactly debarked because they still possess the ability to bark. They just don't utilize it very often, which suits me just fine. I cannot abide the constant yap of dogs. It grates on my nerves and only serves to remind me that they are in my house. The piles of dog fur and the stench of dog breath is enough to remind me. I don't need the noise, too. But, you know, they're cute and the kids love them. That's enough for me to wear a Badge of Long Suffering for being so magnanimous, allowing dogs to infiltrate my peaceful cat world.
Stick with me now. The house next to ours is a rental. In the 7 years we've lived here, we have had some amazing neighbors and some stinkers. When we first moved in, we had a family whose father was very charismatic and hilarious and generous to a fault. If he had a bad week, he'd ring our doorbell and hand us a bottle of wine or a six pack of craft beer and tell us to drink away the bad days for him. Needless to say, we were sad when they moved. Then came a family who consisted of a mother with freeloading grown children who would work on cars late into the night and invite their unsavory friends over. That was when my plants got stolen. I have no proof, but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with them. Most recently, our favorite neighbors occupied that home for 3 wonderful years. Oh, they were a delight, and it was such a sad day when they told us they were moving to Scottsdale to, you know, pursue dreams and build careers and all that nonsense. They left last week, and the house stood empty.
It was empty for a whole day before we got new neighbors. I can't complain about them too much...yet...but one unpleasant change has moved in with them: two yippy, yappy mutts with no discernible stopping point. Thank God they keep the dogs outside, or I might not be experiencing the first signs of frazzled nerves. Sign one: taking stock of the animals in my house. Sign two: a long, rambling blog. Our neighbors on the other side of us also have two yippy, yappy mutts, but they stay on top of that noise, lending them a free pass from my nerves. Plus, we love them. Love of people can cover a multitude of wretched dog behavior.
Last night, nestled in my favorite chair, preparing for some relaxing Netflix binge-ing (spell check seems to not like any variation I tried of that word), what should accost my ears but the yip-yapping of the new neighbor mutts. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my earbuds, determined to drown it out with cinematic distractions. However, I was soon pulled from my reverie by Mahone. You know, the nervous dog who practically never barks? He was spinning in circles, whining, and--you guessed it--barking! He was talking to the enemy. He never talks to the dogs on the other side. Like, ever. Not only was he having some kind of verbal canine fit, but the hairs on his neck and back were standing straight up. This was completely new and not in a good way. There was no place in the house he could escape the yaps which meant there was no place in the house I could escape HIS replies. Mahone's yelps freaked out my kitties, too, and being a staunch cat person, this is unforgivable.
This left me to wonder: what in the world were these foul-mouthed beasts saying? Were they hurling insults? Were they being vulgar? Were they promising delicacies that they'd never deliver? What? What in the world had my quiet pup in such a tizzy? All I know is this new development has left me twitchy and more than a little concerned. After all, I was just getting used to the idea that my plants were safe. Now I need to move them to the backyard where the dogs will dig them up. And pee on them.
You see? This is why I'm a staunch cat person. Did I even make a point? No, and I blame my nerves which I blame on Mahone which I blame on the creatures next door which I blame on Scottsdale which I blame on America. Now I'm not even patriotic. I've lost everything. That's my point.
YAP!
It was empty for a whole day before we got new neighbors. I can't complain about them too much...yet...but one unpleasant change has moved in with them: two yippy, yappy mutts with no discernible stopping point. Thank God they keep the dogs outside, or I might not be experiencing the first signs of frazzled nerves. Sign one: taking stock of the animals in my house. Sign two: a long, rambling blog. Our neighbors on the other side of us also have two yippy, yappy mutts, but they stay on top of that noise, lending them a free pass from my nerves. Plus, we love them. Love of people can cover a multitude of wretched dog behavior.
Last night, nestled in my favorite chair, preparing for some relaxing Netflix binge-ing (spell check seems to not like any variation I tried of that word), what should accost my ears but the yip-yapping of the new neighbor mutts. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my earbuds, determined to drown it out with cinematic distractions. However, I was soon pulled from my reverie by Mahone. You know, the nervous dog who practically never barks? He was spinning in circles, whining, and--you guessed it--barking! He was talking to the enemy. He never talks to the dogs on the other side. Like, ever. Not only was he having some kind of verbal canine fit, but the hairs on his neck and back were standing straight up. This was completely new and not in a good way. There was no place in the house he could escape the yaps which meant there was no place in the house I could escape HIS replies. Mahone's yelps freaked out my kitties, too, and being a staunch cat person, this is unforgivable.
This left me to wonder: what in the world were these foul-mouthed beasts saying? Were they hurling insults? Were they being vulgar? Were they promising delicacies that they'd never deliver? What? What in the world had my quiet pup in such a tizzy? All I know is this new development has left me twitchy and more than a little concerned. After all, I was just getting used to the idea that my plants were safe. Now I need to move them to the backyard where the dogs will dig them up. And pee on them.
You see? This is why I'm a staunch cat person. Did I even make a point? No, and I blame my nerves which I blame on Mahone which I blame on the creatures next door which I blame on Scottsdale which I blame on America. Now I'm not even patriotic. I've lost everything. That's my point.
YAP!
