Meet the Neighbor

I met one of my neighbors for the first time Thursday morning. Well, some might not call her my neighbor cuz we live blocks apart. And I didn’t get her name — I just got yelled at by her.

On my way around Altura Park with Lucky Dog, I decided to photograph some flowers across the street. These are white flowery fruit trees that are lovely for, at most, one week each year — they are at peak right now. I was especially drawn by the illumination of the flowers against an almost black-in-shadow wall.

While I fiddled, with his leash gripped between my knees, Lucky wandered into the vinca along the sidewalk. He loves vinca, but today he just sat down rather than roll around or paw. I took a few shots and for the last, I stepped into the vinca, too.

At that moment, the owner drove up. Halfway up her driveway she stopped and yelled with exasperation, “You know, I don’t appreciate you letting your dog ‘go’ in my yard. Why don’t you give me your address and I’ll bring my dog over to your house!.” To which I replied with my address — if that will balance this injustice — which seemed to do nothing to placate her. She repeated the “‘go’ in my yard” thing again. To which I replied, “he’s not really ‘going’, he’s sitting.” Still no pleasing her; more of the same. Fed up, and a bit guilty, I said, “I’m sorry; thank you for the opportunity to photograph your flowers.” I turned away from her fuming.

Now, I don’t encourage trespassing anymore than I do over-zealous property-rights-obsession. I know I was wrong to trespass and a love of flowers and light and shadow are poor excuses; the dog was an innocent bystander. I’m sorry for trespasses. I am not sorry for upsetting her — her reaction is her problem, not mine. I have no idea what the Buddha or Jesus would say to her, but it might be “how’s that working for you?”

I was a bit put-off by the hollow “I’ll bring my dog over” threat. If she actually has a dog, there MUST be some occasion where that dog did something she’s not proud of. Some walk where she slipped up and let that dog cross from public to private space. It’s not possible to have a dog bigger than a breadbox that won’t go where it will at any opportunity. The shortest distance between two points is of no interest to a dog. Neither are boundaries or borders or property lines.

Living where she does, she surely knows countless dogs have had their way with her vinca. She also surely knows that vinca in shade is indestructible — and, this time of year, looks like shit on its own. These facts don’t excuse me but might lead some to pick a different battle. What’s your well-being worth to you?

In my case, my well-being is greatly restored by the laughter of friends when I tell my story and also by knowing her friends will be laughing, too. A better man might keep it to himself. A better woman might have, too. mjh