Once again our bedroom is very close to our neighbor’s yard. Once again, we have clueless neighbors with dogs that bark.
The dogs in question are of the small yappy variety this time. Small, yappy ones that bark at every noise and movement in all the surrounding yards. Despite knowing it’s not the dogs’ fault, all the neighbors hate them.
Some time ago, the dog’s owners bought the two small, fluffy dogs for their kids. No one in the family had ever had a dog before. They didn’t seem to realize that dogs don’t house break themselves. That dogs that get bored can be destructive and end up chewing on things that they shouldn’t. They had no idea that dogs need to be trained. They need exercise and attention. They thought that when the dogs did something bad, they should just be put outside. Once outside, the dogs amused and expressed themselves by barking. At everything. All the time. Yap. Yap. Yap. The owners didn’t seem to hear them.
One warm September night my directionally challenged spouse and I were in bed, trying to sleep. The yappy dogs were out in their yard yapping every once and a while. The later it got, the more the dogs yapped. My spouse grumbled and cursed. Finally, after what seemed like hours of yap, yap, yapping and cursing. Gail got up. She said she would be up a while. I managed to get to sleep, but awoke when she came back to bed. She said that she had gone over to the owners and rang and rang their doorbell, but no one answered. There were lights on. She knew someone was probably home. They just wouldn’t come to the door. That should have been a clue.
The next morning the dogs were still barking. Their house was closed up and dark, so I went over to take a look. I knocked on the door, loudly. No one answered. I rang the bell. No one came.
I decided to check with the people who lived on one side. The woman who came to the door said she had no idea where the owners were. She was sick of the barking too. When I turned to leave, she said, “I had just gotten to sleep last night when someone starting ringing my doorbell. I couldn’t imagine who it was, so I didn’t answer. That wasn’t you was it?”
“No,” I answered, “but I know who it was.”
This is a view out the slider in our bedroom. The house on the right is the house with the dogs. The house on the left is the doorbell house.