Wherein I Reveal That I Am Actually An Extremely Angry Person (Surprise!)
Southeast Michigan has recently been blessed with a burst of uncharacteristically pleasant weather. Each day this week has been a joyful combination of sun and warm temperatures. Spring breezes carry the scent of burgeoning life as plants and soil awaken from their winter slumber. My early morning runs no longer take place in the cold, still darkness; a riotous chorus of robins and other early-rising birds accompanies me. I have thrown open my house's windows to let the fresh air circulate (which also blows all the cat fur tumbleweeds down the hall and reminds me that I need to vacuum).
Opening my winter-stale house to the warm spring air has, however, reintroduced to my life the only thing I don't like about living in my otherwise peaceful neighborhood:
The World's Most Annoying Dog (also known as: That Shitty Little Fucking Yappy Piece of Shit Motherfucking Rat Dog).
I'm not a huge fan of dogs in general. I have a low opinion of poorly-behaved asshole dogs who act like their often similarly poorly-behaved asshole owners (imagine that), like the asshole dog that bit me on my arm last year (those teeth left marks which are still visible). I like dogs the same way I like very small children: fun to play with for a while, but I'm glad I can give them back to their handlers when it's time to go home (especially if they start to act up and/or need a diaper changed, a scenario which may apply both to humans and canines). The only exceptions are my brother and sister-in-law's dog Maya (whom I refer to as "the best dog ever," because she totally is) and my little nephew (who was joined this week by his new baby brother, making me an aunt two times over!). I can cuddle with Maya for hours and when Little Nephew refers to me as "Ra-ra" I turn into a puddle.
Anyway, despite my committed lifelong cat person-ness (save the "crazy cat lady jokes," I only have two cats, not two dozen) I can tolerate and enjoy most dogs. (I just don't want to live with one.)
Not this one.
I hate this dog, The World's Most Annoying Dog (WMAD), with the fire of a thousand suns. I daydream about ways in which this dog could be wiped off the face of the earth. A stray piece of airplane debris, perhaps? My town is in the approach path (albeit 40 miles out) for Detroit Metro Airport, so it's not completely outside the realm of possibility. How about a meteorite? It could totally happen! Lightning strike! Sinkhole! Dognappers! Falling tree branch! Red-tailed hawk! Anything!
Those of you who know me as a soft-hearted animal lover who cries at ads for the Humane Society or ASPCA (damn Sarah McLachlan!) and who has approximately 800 pictures of her cats on her iPhone are probably mystified and a little disturbed. Maybe you're mystified in general because I rarely rant about anything not running-related. Maybe you're just disturbed, in which case, seek professional help.
Let's just say I hide it well, unless you happen to be a helpless passenger in my car while I'm driving. Then you will be hit full-force with the extent of my commentary on all the FUCKING IDIOTS who share the road with me. Blunt-force road rage!
Not today. Not this time. I need to vent, and vent BIG. Like, catastrophic Mt. St. Helens explosive volcanism with bonus pyroclastic flow (now with extra chunky flaming boulders!) kind of big.
Back to the WMAD. First of all, this...thing...can barely be called a dog. My cats are bigger than it. Darwin could kick its ass just by lying on top of it in a nonviolent feline coup. I think it's a miniature or toy something-or-another, maybe a Doberman pinscher. Suffice to say it's the size of a loaf of bread or my Barbie horse from when I was little. Thus, it obeys one of the cardinal rules of caninedom: The smaller the dog, the yappier and more high-pitched its voice. This is the smallest dog I've ever seen; therefore, it is the yappiest dog I've ever come across.
Let's sum up so far: warm weather, open windows, yappy dog three doors down...do you see where this is going?
This is what I heard for a large chunk of Wednesday afternoon and evening as I was TRYING to enjoy hanging out in my house with the windows open for the first time since early November (yes, the windows were closed for five months. Welcome to Michigan!):
YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP
This is what I heard Thursday at 5:45 am after I slept with my windows open:
YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP
I think you get the idea.
Imagine that sound drilling into your brain for HOURS upon HOURS. Imagine hearing that shrill ceaseless shrieking as you lie exhausted on your bed after an 18- or 20-mile training run, desperate for a nap, but unable to fine a shred of peace because that FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT DOG WILL. NOT. SHUT. UP. And for those of you wondering why I didn't close the windows: even with them closed, I can still hear it. Additionally, it's my house and if the weather's nice and I want to have the windows open, then I'm going to have my damn windows open. And there's no fucking way I'm wearing earplugs to sit on my couch and read a book. That's just stupid.
I must justifiably direct a large part of my ire at the "owners," who stick the poor dog in their backyard, attached to an overhead wire, and leave it there alone for hours. No dog deserves that. It's clearly bored or anxious and wants to be with its people, and voices its displeasure by standing by their back door barking (I can see into their yard from certain of my second-floor windows). If you're going to have a dog and ignore it all day, then why even have a dog, you morons? Get a cat; they can deal with being left alone and often want to be left alone. Cats don't freak out if you leave the room. You might leave, come back five hours later, and they haven't even moved. Darwin and Boo might take a moment to look at me as if to say, "Oh, you were gone? I didn't even notice." Plus cats are way quieter.
Additionally, HOW in the WORLD do they not know how disruptive, rude, and insensitive it is to their neighbors to leave their dog outside to yap endlessly? Are these people fucking clueless braindead IDIOTS? I THINK SO. There's no other explanation. Any respectable dog owners with half an ounce of common sense know not to allow their dog to bark nonstop. My next-door neighbors have an Old English sheepdog. It's a big dog with a big bark. It likes to bark at things. They, however, quickly shut it down with a firm "No!" or let it back inside after it's woofed at a few squirrels, falling leaves, me getting into my car, the air passing by...Suffice to say, even though it's exasperating when that dog barks at me when I'm going up the stairs in my house, they have their shit together when it comes to responsible dog ownership.
I dread what's coming this summer. Every weekend the WMAD will be in its yard yapping. It happened last year and I thought I was going to lose my mind. We had such a mild summer that I only ran my air conditioner a handful of times; the rest of the time I kept my windows open. Each Saturday and Sunday I would hope for just one day where I didn't have to listen to that yappy fucker spreading its aural poison around the neighborhood. Occasionally the stars would align and the gods smiled down and the WMAD was nowhere to be heard. Ah, blissful silence! I could hear the breeze rustling the trees, hear the birds chirping, hear my own thoughts.
The other 5 bajillion days I spent muttering "Shut up shut up shut up shut up for the love of fucking god, PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP
I've composed anonymous letters in my head countless times. They always begin: "Dear Dumbasses..." (or "Dear So-Called Owners of the World's Most Annoying Dog...") I've thought about how I could cover my tracks in sending this letter. (I'm not telling.) I've envisioned front-porch confrontations. (No one dies; I'm not that violent.) I've indulged in fantasizing about much more nefarious and unsavory and un-Sarah McLachlanesque ways of dealing with the problem (think flamethrowers). The problem with that is when I have reduced the WMAD to a smoldering pile, letting silence reign over the neighborhood, my heart is pounding and I feel lightheaded from adrenaline. (Power daydreams: try them!)
They've created a monster with their stupidity and the entire neighborhood has to pay the price. I can't possibly be the only one who is harboring a deep and secret hatred.
I just don't know what to do. The prospect of another summer marred by brain-melting hair-pulling rage-inducing barking has filled me with dread. It's started already and it's only April. I might get a reprieve when the weather takes an inevitable brief turn for the worse (I fully expect a surprise snowstorm or a string of 45-degree, rainy days), but eventually it will be all warm, all the time, and all hope for salvation and a peaceful summer will be lost.
So. Anyone know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy...?
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12 comments:
Sorry about the dog. It's the owner's fault not the dogs. I have (at least) two CRAZY cat ladies who live near me and feed the strays. The strays are always in heat and I have to listen to, what I can only assume is cat rape all night. ;-)
If the dumbasses are gonna leave the dog all tied up and neglected, its your responsibility...no, your DUTY to untie him and let him roam free in the (suburban) wild.
With any luck, he'll get run over by an SUV and the driver wouldnt even notice.
Also, I miss you babe. Hope all is well.
We had 3 Boston terriers next door that lead to multiple neighbors knocking on their door (magically they weren't home) and my husband yelling out the window at all hours of the night to shut up. Buy the flamethrower. It's will make you feel better:)
...and thankfully the neighbors moved or else I would have had to enact a covert operation to let the dogs run free down the busy road right next to our subdivision.
If you find a guy who knows a guy can he come and shoot the dogs that shit in our yard or the cats who pee around the perimeter of our foundation? The pooping means we have to scoop poop in our yard and we don't even have a dog. And the peeing makes our strictly indoor cats retaliate pee around the front door.
I feel for you. We had that happen to us, only the next-door-neighbor's dog was a big dog with a loud, penetrating bark. The neighbor would go out partying every night, leaving that dog barking all night long. Sometimes the kid wouldn't come back until morning, after his dog kept us working folks up all night.
Nothing would shut that dog up. Nothing at all. You could've dropped a nuclear missile on it and it would've kept barking. We called the cops numerous times, but nothing helped. We were renters and we moved. Anything was better than hearing that wretched animal all night long.
ZOMG, Sarah (D-MI)! Will you hate me if I say I was laughing out loud at this? It's NOT that I'm unsympathetic but .. that's one talented dog! It YAPs the exact same number of times EVERY TIME! Does that provide you no comfort? That's TALENT!
Seriously, though, I am a dog-owner and a dog-lover, but I have little patience for the dogs that do this or the dog-owners who allow this to happen. My revenge fantasies usually key on the owners, not the dogs.
But my revenge fantasies PALE in comparison to yours, Sarah (D-MI)! You are the master!
I sincerely wish you the best with this problem though.
Toy dogs are sadly inbred and often retarded, so lack the usual self control and instincts of a real dog. Euthanasia is often the outcome for them, since their cancer rates are so high. Sometimes toy dogs are even missing entire organs and end up dying later because of it. *shudder* I suppose an anonymous call to the ASPCA for animal abuse and neglect isn't out of the realm of possibility? They get a fine, might be enough to get them to do something about it. No shots fired either.
i agree with Heretic, though i REALLY like the flamethrower idea!!!! bring on the saurkraut!
Did you cut-and-paste a Seinfeld script for this post? Get Newman to help.
Sounds awful, but an amusing read...
I have a similar problem with children. Neighbour's children believe (because our garden is communal - for the residents of the block I live in) that they can also wander in freely, scream, shout, bang doors, barricade the back gate with recycling bins, and generally make a mess in OUR garden. And when I tell them to leave they look at me like I'm insane! WTF?
Wow, if my dogs ever did that... ugh! It sure does take one owner to wreck it for everyone. Hope things get better. Good vent.
Just found your blog via Booze Hounds blog and I completely sympathize with you. We have the same thing at our house - only worse - because there are TWO damn dogs that bark constantly. Open the garage door, yap yap yap, go to get the mail, yap yap yap, drop a dish in the kitchen sink with the windows open, yap yap yap. I too have daydreamed about anonymous letters and doorstep confrontations. My latest idea is to invest in one of these (http://www.amazon.com/Viatek-BC06-Viateks-Professional-Bark/dp/B000F3XO32). I wonder if it actually works.
Good luck in Boston!
BTW - I'm a fellow Michigander albeit a Southwester :)
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