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My Nemesis, the Lawn Guardian

This morning I encountered a neighbor who I consider my nemesis because he never fails to irk me. Specifically he aggravates one of the few pet peeves that can spark my fury. (And ask anyone who knows me. I don’t get furious very often, but when I do…it’s nuclear.)

His offense? He’s insolent. To the max.

This neighbor is what I call a Lawn Guardian. In fact, that’s how I’ll refer to him from here on out, as Mr. LG.

About a year ago, Mr. LG made it perfectly clear upon moving into his new home that he did not appreciate Murphy in his yard.

Actually, let me back up a sec. He tried to make it perfectly clear but it took him a few attempts.

Try #1

We have lived in this neighborhood for two and a half years. For the first year and half, the lot where Mr. LG’s home now stands was vacant –and was one of Murph’s favorite spots to explore. (There were a lot of bunnies and squirrels to be had.)

When his home was completed a little over a year ago, I didn’t realize anyone had even moved in. I still thought it was under construction. I was on the side yard when I heard someone banging on a window. I looked up to see a man angrily waving his arms. I had no clue what he was trying to tell me. One time I’d had someone rush out to warn me about a big snake at another place we lived, so I wondered if it was something like that.

In hindsight, I realize it was Mr. LG’s first attempt to tell me Murph was not welcome near his grounds.

Try #2

Thereafter, any time Murph and I walked by he’d come outside and stand there with arms crossed glaring at me. We were never on his property, but we were near it. (Across the street on the other sidewalk, which is too near for him apparently.)

I also caught him watching us a couple of other times, but nowhere near his house. He’d be driving by and stop when he saw Murph on someone else’s lawn. He’d watch with that same burning fury and loathing in his eyes when he’d watch us from his lawn.

I’m not big on nonverbal approaches like that. If you’ve got something to say to me, you better say it. Which brings us to the next attempt.

Try #3

One stormy afternoon, as I was walking with another neighbor and her dog, Mr. LG came home and found Murph (gasp) on his lawn. He screeched to a halt in the middle of the street and said very angrily, “Please keep your dog out of my yard!”

Yes, he said please but it was not used with anywhere near a polite tone. I felt he’d been waiting to bust me so he could finally confront me. ARGH!