I was so looking forward to having a nice, quiet weekend this past weekend. After all the madness from last weekend (which I loved), I was hoping to get lots of rest, and enjoy some leisurely time with my cats and some friends.
So Saturday, my friend Rafael called and said he wanted to use my computer for a second to print something out. He has one of his own but he doesn’t have a printer, so occasionally he will stop by and take care of whatever business he needs to take care of. When he was done, we stepped out for some lunch.
After lunch we came back because he was going to help me throw out the old air conditioner that had been sitting on my back porch since last summer. I had bought a new one to replace it, so I didn’t need it anymore… and the thing was too damn heavy to carry myself.
Everything was rosy and wonderful until we reached the second floor landing. “Oh yuck,” Rafael said.
And then I saw it.
A huge pile of shit, on the floor, right in front of my downstairs neighbor’s door.
And it was fresh. And it absolutely REEKED.
“God damn it!” I yelled. “I know whose dog did that. And I’m fucking pissed off.”
“That’s just disgusting,” Rafael said. “Don’t people in this building take care of their dogs?”
“They’re not supposed to HAVE dogs to begin with,” I replied, finally making it into my apartment, safe from the wafting odor of shit that was now starting to fill the entire stairway, and seep into my living room.
We caught our breath, brought down the monster air conditioner, I thanked him kindly, and then Rafael plugged his nose and headed out the door. No sooner than the door shut, I was on the phone calling the landlord.
The neighbors who own this dog– a pit bull puppy, no less– have been a thorn in my side ever since they moved into the building a year or so ago. They are a married couple with a son. They live on the first floor, opposite of my apartment, so I don’t hear them often– but when they get loud, they get extremely obnoxious.
Obnoxious… like the countless times they fight and scream at each other.
Obnoxious… like the time the husband got so out of control the wife called the police, and he ran up the back stairway onto the roof, making a disaster out of my back porch in the process.
Obnoxious… like the times they blast their music through the open windows of their apartment for all the world to hear.
Obnoxious… like how they prop the front door to the building open so they and their son can come and go as they please; meanwhile having no regard for the safety and security of the rest of the neighbors.
Obnoxious… like how when my first bike was stolen and I sent notices to everyone, they went crazy and threatened to have me evicted because I “accused” them of stealing my bike. (Not quite the case at all… but I blame them for leaving the door open all the time!)
Obnoxious… like how their son (and probably their dog, too) has now taken to digging in the courtyard as if it was his sandbox, so the courtyard looks like a graveyard.
Obnoxious… like how they have parties almost every weekend and their guests are as rude, loud and obnoxious as they are.
The landlord wasn’t in, of course, so left as much of this information– dog shit included– on her voice mail as I could before it hung up on me. I haven’t heard back from her yet, but needless to say, by that evening, the pile of shit had been picked up and the carpet had been refreshed.
I did ask her whether she even knew they had a dog, though. Because on my lease, it states, very plainly, “NO DOGS”.
I think this is the very reason why.
Now don’t get me wrong… I love dogs. I adore them. As much as I love cats, in fact. But it’s the dog OWNERS that I cannot tolerate. If they can’t care for the dog as it should be cared for, they have no business owning a dog. Common sense says that the dog shouldn’t be running around in the common stairway of an apartment building. But these people have never been known for having much common sense.
So that put a bit of a damper on my weekend… but at least it got taken care of.