My A**hole Neighbors Strike Again

Ahole NeighborsSome shit in my life I can’t even make up if I tried. The house next door to me has a long running history of assholes living there. There have been three home owners in the last fifteen years and all have had their fair share of dick moves. I think the house is just destined to be inhabited by jerks. So I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised when yet again I am reminded that I have asshole neighbors.

A few weeks ago it was very windy, like 50 MPH wind gusts. Our fence is broke, of course, allowing the gate to dislodge and swing open at inopportune times. My dogs are well aware they have a good thing going so they don’t leave the yard, and honestly Bear is too lazy while Marley isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. But apparently the neighbor’s dogs knew how good it was at our house so they escaped their home and came straight for my yard, unbeknownst to me.

My husband had a red eye flight home and instead of going to work like I thought he was, he came home to scare the shit out of me.

“Hey!” he sprang on me when I exited the shower, causing me to jump fifty feet. Doesn’t he know I could drop dead at my age from that kinda surprise attack?

“What’s up with the two big black dogs in the yard?” he asked.

Confused, I assumed he was full of shit because he likes to play games that end up making me look like an idiot.

“Huh? What dogs? What are you talking about?”

“Look,” he said as he led me to the window to see the rogue dogs that were no where to be found, “I swear there are two huge dogs in our yard.”

“Sure there are, now if you excuse me I’m going to get dressed,” but just as I was turning away I noticed a very large hole dug in our yard that had not been there before. I raced to throw on some clothes and flew down the stairs. As I turned the corner into our kitchen I saw them, standing on our deck was the neighbor’s two very happy black labs covered in mud – OUR MUD.

“I think that’s the neighbor’s dogs.” I sighed, knowing the hole was the work of these two mental midgets.  “Can you get the number off the collar and I’ll call over there?”

After Hubs wrangled the mud caked puppies to get the number from the collar I called and left a message.

“I’ll just go over and see if they are home.” He sighed, exhausted from his 3 am wakeup.

Leaving our new found pets in the yard he hightailed it next door and returned after a bit.

“Their front door is wide open and an old yellow lab is standing at the entrance staring at me. No one is home as best as I can tell, but I didn’t go in.”

Thinking it’s strange the front door is wide open I called the police, worrying something was wrong or maybe their home had been burglarized. Hubs got the other dog’s collar and found a different number and I called that one.

“Hi, do you have two black labs?” I asked the woman who answered the number.

“Yes, uh-oh what did they do?” She said. (so you know your dogs are assholes too)

“Well they are in my backyard digging holes and covered in mud. I think you are my neighbor, do you live at blah-blah-blah?” Thinking this is the time you apologize to me for your animals digging up my yard, but I was wrong.

“Yes, but we are in Wisconsin. Can you just take the dogs back over to our yard? They are very nice and will follow you.” She asked.

“Um, sure. Your front door was wide open so I called the police to come do a welfare check on the house. Your old dog is still inside. My husband shut the door so you should be ok.” I couldn’t help but think who goes to Wisconsin (8 hours away) and leaves their front door unlocked? My neighborhood is not a leave your door unlocked kinda place.

I load up my pockets with dog food and take the rogue pups back home. They were really well behaved happy adorable labs and followed me over. As I walked up their steep driveway I noticed the front door was again wide open, which is strange since Hubs just shut it. I get the dogs into the back yard behind a metal gate they could easily push open and walked to the front again, calling the neighbor back.

“Hi it’s me again. I got the dogs in the yard but I gotta tell you, your front door is open again.”

“Can you just lock it for us?” She asked minus the ‘please’, or ‘thank you’.

Sigh, “sure.” I can’t help but start to get a tiny bit annoyed. There are lots of requests going on without a single thanks thrown my way for good measure. Do I need the thanks to do the right thing? No. But would I appreciate it…yup.

After attempting to lock the door and witnessing it being blown open from the gale force winds I call her back.

“Yeah, your door is broke and won’t lock. Not sure what you want me to do here.” I say as I stand halfway in her house, and half way on the porch wondering when the cop will show up.

“Well, can you try this…(which I do and it doesn’t work)…or how about this (still not working)…,” and cue the house alarm finally going off while I stand in their foyer. No good deed ever goes unpunished in my world.

“Your alarm is now going off.”

“Can you go turn it off, it’s by the garage.” she asks minus the ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ again.

Sure lady, let me go ahead and walk through your whole house while the cops are en route to disarm your alarm that should have gone off hours ago. I walk through her living room, through the kitchen, past her purse just sitting on the counter, through the laundry room, to the back door and turn off the blaring noise after a few attempts.

“Ok, it’s off. So I’m gonna get going. Not sure what to do about the door.” I say.

“Can you barricade it with some furniture?” The neighbor asks me, in complete seriousness.

Are you fucking kidding me? Am I being punk’d? Is there a camera somewhere just taping my reaction because this shit is just beyond believable. Putting the phone down, wondering how the hell I get into this shit, I push her ottoman 20 feet across the wood floor to her door.

“Ok so I put the ottoman there.” I say as I start to make my departure.

“I don’t think that’s heavy enough. Can you move the couch over there too?” She asks without a second of hesitation.

What the absolute FUCK? I am not the fucking furniture movers! However, I did it because I’m a sucker and because I couldn’t in good conscience leave the home able to be burglarized or more importantly the animals harmed. Traveling across the room to the couch I put the phone down and proceed to push the large bulky sectional across their wooden floor to the front door. Yes, I hope it scratched the shit out of your floor too.

Picking up the phone again I inform her the couch and ottoman are now barricaded at the door and I am leaving. I’m annoyed that the pain in the ass homeowners who leave their pets outside to bark all the damn time, never considering that anyone else may hear them and so can’t open their windows, continue to be a thorn in my side. As I am leaving I run into the dog sitter (still no cops) who informs me the door was broke last time she was there and she told them to fix it. Clearly they haven’t.

Sighing I head home to evaluate the damage to my yard. The dogs did a number in the back trying to dig up some landscaping so I was pretty pissed. But not nearly as pissed as the fact that the damn neighbors never even thanked us, or anything. If that had been my dogs I would have brought the neighbors over a nice bottle of wine and profusely apologized for the inconvenience. Nope, my dickhead neighbors have me moving fucking furniture around their house and I don’t even get a cursory Thank You.

I don’t know what it is with this house, but it truly it attracts assholes neighbors. I shoulda known when I saw her damn vanity plate – BABYDR.

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