Dear Neighbor to the North,
I recall you proudly telling me your first dog was a rescue pet. You remember him, the one who got hit by a car twice while under your care because he wasn't contained in your yard? He had to have his jaw reconstructed and lost a few teeth before you finally put in an invisible fence. Remember how he kept eating cough drops because you hadn't installed your new medicine cabinet yet. It was sitting on the floor and he kept getting into it. You thought it was cute that he was basically eating poison. He was so lucky you adopted him, God rest his soul. And years later, you've started your own pack, maybe thinking yourself the neighborhood Cesar Millan. I'm sure the three dogs you currently own are also rescue animals. And this time you trained them with the invisible fence, so they stay safe in your yard. All day. All year around. Even when it's -15 in the winter. Maybe you weren't thinking "audible lawn ornaments" when you adopted them, but that's what they are now. You rarely interact with them except when getting in and out of your car. They are crazy for any attention, so they bark. They bark at joggers, bicyclists, neighbors. You leave them out all day, even when you aren't home. In fact, sometimes it's late into the evening before you do arrive home and let them in. In the meantime, they've been barking. All damn day. Several times I've asked you to please manage your dogs' barking. In writing and in person. And you do manage them after I've asked. For about three days. And then it's back to the old habits - your dogs barking, you ignoring them and me watching our property values decline. It's spring now and we can finally open our windows to air out the house. Oh, wait, no, we can't. Because when your dogs HEAR us open our windows (or front door) they start barking at us from across the street. In fact, when our windows are already open and they hear us open our Goddamn oven door, they start barking. That's right, I can't even open my own squeaky oven door without your dogs going on high alert. There's no point in asking you to manage your dogs anymore because YOU. DON'T. CARE. You don't care about your dogs while at the same time you probably brag to your friends you've rescued these animals. Sure, they have a home, of sorts, and are fed. But that's about it. No one in your household gives a crap about those dogs. At least they have each other, passing joggers, bicyclists, the UPS guy and my squeaky oven door to entertain them. Stop puffing yourself up with how noble you think you are by adopting rescue pets. You're a horrible dog owner. Sincerely, Neighbor South
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About Sally FarleyI'm a typical, hardworking Midwesterner, enduring (and sometimes participating in) the passive-aggressive complexities of life in Minnesota. ArchivesLinksAsk a Manager
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