Just a quickie while I'm still slightly apoplectic...
I've been getting up early over the last month or so. Essentially I can't sleep and last night I either had an anxiety attack or a nasty asthma attack (around 2am) and therefore woke up this morning not in the best frame of mind. There's nothing more scary than thinking you're going to suffocate when your wife is snoring away like a good'un next to you and you kind of don't want to wake her because she has to get up for work this morning...
Anyhow, I got up about 8 and pottered about for a while and then the dogs all go fucking batshit - there was someone at the door and before 9am. I got the dogs in the kitchen and went to the front door and standing there is a man who I have seen before; he is one of my 'distant' neighbours; ie: he lives just down the road. He really doesn't look happy...
Now, people with good memories might remember the guy from a couple of years ago who banged on my door demanding that I move my car from out the front of his house. When I asked him how he knew it was my car he said because I have a Zafira (doesn't everybody?), but seemed not to notice that my Zafira was parked about 6 foot away from him out the front of my house. If you remember I barely got an apology from this twat.
"Excuse me, but one of your fucking dogs is in my garden trying to catch one of the cats. Can't you keep them under control?" He asks in a rising and generally agitated tone.
"I'm sorry, but what?" I said, completely befuddled.
"Your fucking dog is in my garden!" He almost screams at me.
I stood there, scratched my head, frowned, but didn't say anything. He then started to really get personal. "You fucking think you own this street. I've seen you, walking round like you're the most important thing in it. With your fucking dogs and your stuck up wife," and other stuff that just seemed to be a stream of invective.
"Hang on a minute, will you?" He did. "My dog you say? Can't be, all my dogs are in the kitchen."
"Well its not because its in my garden."
"No. You don't seem to understand. All my dogs are in the kitchen."
"No it is NOT!" He shouts at me. I'm growing really angry at this point, but instead of doing something stupid and punching the cunt in the face, I put my finger up in the air, in a 'hold on for a mo' gesture. I turned on my heels and thought I'll show the bastard, left the lounge door open and went and opened the kitchen door, where, quite amazingly, four dogs all sprang out and rushed to the open front door to greet the aggressive and nasty man who was besmirching their name. Marley even managed to jump up at him angering him even more.
"See, four dogs, all accounted for."
Suddenly looking less confident, he blurts out, "But it is one of your dogs." At this I grew slightly sarcastic.
"Yeah, it was probably that one," I said pointing at Lexy, the orange dog with the Queen Anne legs and the awkward gait. "She has the power to teleport."
Amazingly, this kind of took the wind out of his sails a little, "Well, whose dog is it?" He says, still with that accusatory tone in his voice.
"Do you know, I have absolutely no fucking idea at all," I said with a sarcastic little smile and you saw the man in front of me suddenly witnessing the penny dropping. I watched it, it was like realisation started at the top of his head and just seeped all the way down, in a fluid and revelatory fashion. There was this very awkward silence that probably lasted a lot less than it seemed. Then something remarkable happened; he just turned away and started to walk off. No apology, no nothing. "Oy," I said, but he didn't turn around. "OY!" I bellowed and his walk hitched a bit, but he didn't turn around, he just walked away.
I stood there on my doorstep (dogs now back in the living room) wondering what the fuck just happened and then it started to rain. I shook my head and thought I don't see this gigantic bell-end very often, he's from down the road and therefore not in my line of sight when I sit here, but I still cannot believe that I stood there and got all this abuse from him for doing nothing at all. I mean, how do you combat against something like that?
I wonder whose dog was in his garden? And if the real owners could arrange for it to happen again and again, maybe bring a few of his mates. I'd pay good money for that.