My neighbors have a dog. Well, actually, they have two, but only one is the epitome of what hell would be like for me.
It’s a Chihuahua. You get that, right? That special, little animal that feels it has to yap at every single blade of grass that sways with the wind? These animals need time, attention, and training before they are acceptable members of a community. Time, apparently, is not something my neighbors are in abundance of.
The sir of the marriage wakes up and leaves around 6:45 a.m. for work, at which time he puts said dog out back. I then wake up at 7:15(on summer break!!!) to “yapyapyap! yapyap! yapyapyap!” I. Am. Going. Crazy.
This goes on for two hours! Until their 14 year old wakes up to bring rat inside.
Small respite, because soon, the little shit will need to pee and be let outside
where it will take up with it’s annoying, perpetual staccato, again. Why am I writing this? No idea. Other than the fact that it takes concentration, and if I’m concentrating on this, I won’t be tempted to go next door and let the rat run out into the street.
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