Evil machinations vs. puppy.

So my neighbor, the one who will be led out of his house or place of business one day with a raincoat over his head -- not that I'm rooting for it; I just expect it -- added his latest entry into the dog-hating Olympics last week, and it really made a stink. 

No, seriously. 

He's always hated my dogs, even though we keep them on our property and always, and I mean always, clean up after them. I've even cleaned up after other dogs on the block in the hope of being neighborly -- and, it must be confessed, for fear of being blamed for something neither I nor my canine chums did. 

This guy has never liked me, actually, long before we had dogs. Looking way back, I think it may be because I didn't accept his invitation to a house party for the neighborhood and never explained why. I couldn't. The fact was I was putting down the drink, and couldn't risk being at a function like that. He never asked about it -- but he's said a thing to me since except to scream angry words about anything else. 

I can accept that. If that was the cause, I wish I'd handled it better, but who knows? It wasn't his business what I was doing. He never had another neighborhood party, so I think it wasn't a success anyway. Did he blame me, thinking I was giving him the high hat? I had nothing against him.

Now it's been so long it just seems impossible to ask. While I was going about my business, he was getting tied in his own private Gordian Knot. I just pray that he finds something better to do with his mind. 

But he oughtn't pick on my dogs. 

Last Saturday I had Izzy out first thing in the a.m. and was walking past his place when I was stunned by an exceptionally strong scent of garlic. I figured the crows had ripped up his trash bags again, but trash pickup was the day before. I turned my handy flashlight on (real dark in the mornings now) and lo and behold, he had sprinkled chopped garlic all the way up his property line on both sides of the sidewalk. 

Now, this is interesting for a couple of reasons. The first is that this would be the second time he'd ever done anything on his lawn by his own labor in decades; he hires people to cut it and only once has ever been seen to fertilize it. For a guy who doesn't give a damn about the grass, he sure gets mad about the dogs. 

And that's the other thing. He yelled at me and the late Fazzy once, and all Fazz was doing was lying on his lawn for a moment as we passed by. Sure, my dogs have gone on the grass by the sidewalk, but that's what they do. It's not illegal. It's not even avoidable. They sometimes pick a spot fast as lightning. But none of my dogs has ever made it a habit to go on his grass, because they're just getting started when we set out or they are almost home, and they want to put a little distance between themselves and HQ when they go. I do know some other regulars whose dogs make his lawn a common spot (my lawn too), but I have to suspect the garlic ploy was directed at me after his hysterics. He always pretends to be a nice guy around others, inasmuch as he is able (which is: not much). 

So, okay, about that garlic. Garlic is bad for dogs, but not really dangerous in tiny amounts. Dogs dislike it. Onions too -- I've seen them rear back from all things Amaryllidaceae. I'm not sure he did it the best way (there's a method for garlic spray at this site that seems more economical), but whatever. He put enough down to repel me, personally. 

At first I was angry about this and wanted to do something to him. I thought about little signs along the grass saying Follow me for more recipes! Or a large sign that said DOG HATER LIVES HERE. I thought about adding some lettuce and tomato, too; really get the meal started. But finally I realized I was doing exactly what he does -- sitting in my house and seething at others -- and I started laughing. It's just stupid. If he'd ever asked me to avoid his grass, or put up a little friendly notice about it, I'd have taken my dogs into the street to stay away, but no -- that's not how he does things. He sulks and fumes until any slight becomes a monstrous injustice and must be avenged. 

Anyway, once I knew Izzy was not going ingest any of the garlic, we resumed walking past his place on the public sidewalk. 

There's a punchline to this. Repellent scent be damned: Izzy was very curious about this garlic thing, and finally decided what to do about it -- starting Sunday morning, he's been peeing on it regularly. He never did on their lawn before. Maybe he wants to kill the scent. But when I saw him doing that, I was torn between laughing out loud and breaking into song ("Did you ever know that you're my HEEEEEERRROOOO?"). Now he's made it a regular weeing ground. 

I'm not going to let this guy infect me with whatever he's got. He can have mental illness or something, but it's only contagious if I let it be.

However, if he escalates to rat poison, as some do, and my dog gets some of it, I may be blogging from the lockup. A man has to draw the line somewhere.