“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a neighbourhood made up of one moderately wide street, 22 semi-detached houses on either side with 22 adjoining driveways, an average of three vehicles and half a dog per property must have an abundance of goodwill amongst its occupants.
It is also a truth universally unacknowledged that this is not so.”
Dog Pee & Soirees
“I can’t believe it, Jenny. She’s letting her dog pee on my hedge again! Every morning the same. I’m sick of it.” Harry swipes at the net curtains hanging across the kitchen window and turns to Jenny who is busy frying eggs.
“The woman from around the back? What’s her name? She always looks like a tramp. No wonder she’s letting her fat ugly mutt pee on your privets,” Jenny observes.
“Don’t know her name, and I’m not interested in it either. I’m going to have a word next time,” Harry mutters as he’s about to leave the kitchen.
“You do that. She deserves a good telling off,” Jenny agrees. “Now, sit down and eat your eggs!”
After a morning spent pottering around in his upstairs study, Harry is now mowing the front lawn.
“I’m just popping over to see Vicky!” Jenny calls out to him brightly, as she is heaving her legs over the small wall separating the two properties.
As Harry nods in her direction, he thinks he can see the shadow of a face quickly disappearing inside their new neighbour’s window before Jenny reaches the door and knocks loudly on the centre glass pane.
“Hi Vicky,” Jenny chirps as the door slowly opens after a couple of minutes and several repeats of loud knocking.
“Oh. Hi. Jenny… ” Vicky looks slightly harassed as she’s stepping out of the door onto the drive. “I’m just going out. Tom’s decorating the hallway. What a mess!” Vicky babbles, attempting to move around Jenny who is blocking her path.
“Oh, is he? I bet he’s doing a great job,” Jenny chimes as she’s bending sideways to see if she can spot Tom through the half-open door.
“Eh, yes, haha. If you excuse me, I’ve got a … hair appointment. I shouldn’t be late really,” Vicky laughs nervously as she is making another attempt at skirting around Jenny’s bulk.
“In your slippers?” Jenny asks pointing to Vicky’s feet.
Vicky slowly follows her neighbour’s gaze, and a faint blush is creeping over her strained face. “Haha, oh dear me. I forget my head these days. I’ll quickly change,” Vicky stutters and turns back towards the door.
Jenny quickly follows her and shouts “Yuhu, Tom! How’s the work going?”
A T-shirt-and-Jeans-clad Tom appears at the open door and grins “Hi, Jen. Haven’t started yet. What’s Haz up to?”
“Oh, he’s just mowing the lawn.” Jenny makes a vague, dismissive gesture towards the front garden while feasting wide-eyed on Tom’s generous biceps.
“Ah, can’t be bothered with it myself,” he smirks lazily.
Tom turns towards his wife. “Are we having that cup of tea then, Vics? I’ve been waiting.”
Vicky blushes and knocks his arm sharply as she’s passing him in the doorway. “I told you I’m going out,” she hisses and disappears into the house.
Tom raises his eyebrows and shrugs as he’s turning back to Jenny and winks.
“Harry and I are having a little soiree on Saturday night. Perhaps you and Vicky would like to come? Just drinks and nibbles.” Jenny leers at Tom.
“Yeah, no worries. I’m sure we haven’t got anything else on. I’ll tell Vics,” Tom beams. “I’ve got to go now, Jen. Nice seeing you. Say hi to Haz.” He waves at her and shuts the door.
Jenny turns and walks towards her house, a gentle, faraway smile on her round face and nearly trips over the lawnmower cable.
“Well, I’m telling you now. I don’t want to see your dog peeing on my hedge ever again. I’ve been watching it do this for far too long now. It’s killing my bushes.”
Jenny is brought harshly down to Earth by Harry’s raised voice coming from the front garden.
“Dogs pee at hedges. That’s what they do,” the woman from around the back counters through tight lips. “One dog’s pee isn’t going to kill it.”
Her dog, a large mongrel of indistinct origin sniffs eagerly at the pavement in front of the hedge.
“Then bloody try that theory on somebody else’s. Not mine. Am I making myself clear?” Harry is trying so hard not to shout at the woman, his double chin is wobbling with suppressed fury.
The woman shakes her head and pulls on the dog’s lead. “Come on, Buster. We don’t want anything to do with nutters.”
The dog stops sniffing, looks up at his mistress and lifts his leg to pee on the privets. The woman laughs, and they’re on their way down the street.
“Nutters? Nutters?” Harry’s voice breaks as he shouts after them, his face a dangerous dark red now. “I’ll show you…!” He waves his fat fists up in the air and drops the heavy lawnmower handle on his sandaled feet. “Bloody hell!” He hops around the half-mowed lawn in agony.
Jenny sighs and walks into the house. She has a soiree to plan.
Caren is a qualified and experienced digital copy & content writer with both a corporate and small business owner background. She runs KreativeInc Agency, a web design, development and content creation agency with her autistic son Callum Gamble.
She specialises in creating Inbound Marketing content for business websites and blogs. Using her expert knowledge, skills and personal experience in business development, personal improvement and autism, she crafts content that makes people take action. Her work is found in retail publications, professional websites, on her writer’s platform StoryBlog and more.
She is also an active advocate of neurodiversity in the workplace and co-founder of the NeuroPool network, neuropool.co.uk. Here, she is organising free educational workshops for employers on how to utilise the extraordinary talent found in people with autism, ADHD, dyspraxia and dyslexia within their business.
When she isn’t typing away on her keyboard or spreading her mission, you can see her having her nose buried in a book or hiking up and down the steep hills of the Yorkshire countryside with her husband, son and daughter.
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