So, I went to let my dogs out. No, they were not on a leash. I decided to let them out the OLD FASHIONED WAY, I opened the damn back door and let them run loose. Those were the good old days… when you could let your dogs could run loose without fear of being sued on television by your neighbors.
*my actual thoughts, blossoming from my cartoon house in a cartoon cloud...*
The neighbors to my left (I’m laying my bed right now – so they are to my left… if I was pulling into my driveway, they’d be on my right).. .those neighbors are awesome. I’m not only saying it because they read my blog (hey Denise and Shane).. but because they’ve basically put up with my foolishness for almost 6 years and *to my knowledge*, they’ve never called the police. Not even when they may have spotted my son playing with fire and a machete. Now that I think about it, maybe they completely suck, because they should have called the police. But, I cannot vouch for their judgement calls. I should be at their house right now, except for I’m laying in my bed writing this blog about different neighbors.
*not actual picture of my son. My son has black hair and sets things on fire*
So, I let my damn dogs out, and there are these two strangers in my backyard. They looked annoyed that my dogs are barking at them. I look annoyed that there are strangers in my backyard. I walk out there to see what is going on, and they are making plans to re-landscape part of the backyard. WEIRD.
So, I say, “Hey, what’s the dealio – strangers?” Ok, that’s not EXACTLY what I said, but whatever.
They say “This blah blah blah tree is being choked by these vines.. we are planning on saving this tree.”
Me: "REALLY? Who are you?"
Strangers: "We live two doors down. We originally wanted to buy your lot."
AWKWARK SILENCE.
I size them up. She is middle aged, possibly from Little House On the Prairie. Her husband looks like he may have had his ass handed to him a few times back in high school – but he was sportin’ some pretty cool white socks and black tennis shoes.
They continued to identify all my trees and what was wrong and right with my vegetation on my property. Luckily, I had already had some alcohol in my system, so I was able to tolerate them with some general amusement.
Then I excused myself and my rounded up my untrained dogs and headed back indoors. Because I over-analyze everything, so I thought about the strange encounter for about 60 more seconds… and here is my ANALYSIS: I would NEVER been able to indentify those people in a line-up if my life depended on it. If a mobster had a gun to my mother’s head, and told me that I had to identify those neighbors in order to save her life.. I am sorry to report.. my mom would be dead.
What happened to Mr. Roger’s neighborhood? I should know these people, right? Especially if their in my yard looking at my trees. So, in order to get to know them better, I let my dogs crap in their yard.
*picture of Mr. Roger's with his actual neighbor - Mr. Gorilla was in Mr. Roger's backyard giving him unwanted advice about his landscaping.*
Won’t you be my neighbor? Won’t you please? Wont you please? Won’t you please.. be…. My….. neighbor….
