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TROUBLE ON SKID ROW

"Take that dog turd home with you!" my elderly, mentally unstable neighbour screeched at me yesterday from the roof of her garage after my hound completed his toileting on the grass verge in front of her house, "or I'll call the Municipal Guard!" Her husband helped out by jumping up and down and wildly gesticulating for me to head further up the road, as if clearing the area in the face of a garbled threat of a car bomb.


When my father-in-law heard about the incident, he recommended that I greet the deranged couple with obscene gestures, but in fact I calmly went home, got a plastic bag, returned to the scene of the carnival, collected my hound's deposits and gracefully returned them to my abode, as recommended by the flipped-out partnership.


Having already poisoned another dog in the neighbourhood to death, I am keen not to provoke the wild-haired old loon further, and by maintaining a sense of dignity in the face of verbal assault, I came out of the incident without having to lamp anyone, or burst into tears. "Accept the defeat and give the victory to others," as the old sages say.


I fully intend to be rather more productive in my later years.

Comments

Mrs Pouncer said…
Hello, my darling old MC. I take your face in my hands and kiss you on the mouth for slightly longer than appropriate.
Anyway, I have been given the present of a brand new pug puppy - black, and a direct descendant of Lady Brassey's prize winners, Crufts 1927. The dog's name is Damson (Kennel name Darlums Dignity of Droitwich) and it shits everywhere. My advice to you is to move immediately to the Berkshire countryside which is steadily silting up in the manner of a gigantic cloaca.
Lots of love, CLdeM Pouncer
27 August 2008 at 11:02
M C Ward said…
What happened to Soapsud?
27 August 2008 at 11:07
Mrs Pouncer said…
Still alive. Ghastly dog. And gun-shy. Pouncer tried him in the field on the 12th and it was shaming. We also have 2 fox terriers for decorative purposes.
27 August 2008 at 11:20
Gadjo Dilo said…
MC, is that the butt end of a Gauloises clenched insouciantly between your mutt's teeth?
27 August 2008 at 16:26
M C Ward said…
Gads, man, you're right! The bugger will smoke anything.
27 August 2008 at 16:30
Gyppo Byard said…
Mad neighbours in foreign parts are deeply disturbing, for one feels intinctively that the mob would side with them rather than you. I once had to deal with a batty Javanese woman of uncertain years who claimed that since she had, 50 years before, planted the avacado tree in my front garden, the avocados were rightfully hers. We came to a negotiated avacado-sharing arrangement with which she was happy, in the end; 'twas our equivalent of removing the offending turd. Better that than locals with flaming torches, eh?
28 August 2008 at 03:15
M C Ward said…
Wise words, GB. That's exactly my problem, I don't know who she's related to - it could be the mayor for all I know. Your negotiating skills are clearly better than mine. This one just screams abuse - I content myself with the suspicion that I'm probably fractionally happier than she is.
28 August 2008 at 09:58
No Good Boyo said…
True. Mrs Boyo's father made the simple mistake of taking a church deacon and running an electrical current through him. The neighbours liked the deacon. He was their son or something. Next thing you know the mob is on its way with the torches etc, and it's time to find another castle.
29 August 2008 at 08:29
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