Page 20 of Pack Nightmare

“HA!” He shouts. “You see, you crazy old bat? I told you the alpha would take care of it. Now you’re in trouble.”

Ignoring him, I head straight for the older woman. “Ma’am, when was the last time the neighbor cleaned up your backyard for you?”

“He comes every Saturday, so it’s been a few days. Why?”

“Would you be ok if we brought your neighbor to your yard so he could see that the poop in his yard is not the same?”

“Well, certainly, if it would get him to SHUT UP!” Her voice goes from sweet to surly in a second as she shouts the last two words at him. “This way, through the gate.”

“Mr. Fredricks, why don’t you come with us for a minute?”

“Bah, no thank you. I don’t want to see a giant pile of poop. I’ve got enough to deal with in my own yard.”

“Well, this is your opportunity to prove you’re right,” I coax. “Don’t you want to be vindicated?”

“Well, I mean, I should think the poop itself is proof enough,” he grumbles. “But fine, I’ll go.”

Hitching up his pants—I’m amazed they can go any higher—he starts a slow march around the fence to the neighboring driveway and up, and Roxanne and I follow like a slow, bizarre parade.

We finally make it into the backyard, which is nearly filled with flower gardens, birdbaths, and an insane amount of garden decor like ceramic toadstools and fairy balls. The one little strip of grass that weaves neatly through the encroaching gardens is bright green, and littered with tiny tan turds.

“You see, you old coot? Princess could hardly be pooping in your yard when she’s clearly doing her business here.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he fires back. “Dogs can shit more than once a day. Besides, she’s out here all the time, barking her head off. I can never relax on my own damn back porch.”

“Mr. Fredricks, do you notice anything about this poop compared to the one on your lawn?”

“Yeah, there’s a lot more of it,” he snorts. “Which I suppose is good.”

“No, I mean the fact that it’s smaller and a completely different color than the poop on your lawn.”

“So? She ate some blueberries or sommat and took a bigger poop. On purpose!” He fires at the older woman.

I lay a gentle hand on his arm. “Mr. Fredricks, I believe it was a natural assumption that the dog next door was leaving poop in your yard, but have you actually ever seen her do it?”

“Well, no, it’s always in the dead of night. I don’t go out for the shift as often as I used to, but when I do go, it always happens sometime between when I get back and dawn. I’m a very early riser, you know,” he leans in, grinning flirtatiously. “Always have been.”

“I bet you are,” I smile back warmly. “But I think it’s pretty clear that whatever is pooping on your lawn is not Princess. Her poop looks nothing like the turds on your grass. And I think you can see that now,” I add gently.

“Well, maybe,” he grumbles. “But then, what’s pooping on my lawn every night?”

“My best guess is raccoons,” I answer. “Have you seen any around here?”

“Now that you mention it, I do see them from time to time. But they’ve never bothered me, so I don’t bother them.”

“Well, it looks like they are bothering you, by using your lawn as a toilet.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Well, fine, I suppose you win this round Mae!” He shouts at his neighbor before shuffling back out of the gate. “Just keep your rat on your side of the fence!”

“She’s never been on your side, you old codger!” The woman shouts back, triumphant. “And you just admitted it. Hah!”

In the end it isn’t exactly a happy resolution, more of a begrudging acceptance, but I get Mr. Fredricks to admit the offending poop isn’t from his neighbor’s dog, and I get Mrs. Angleton to agree not to leave Princess outside barking for the sake of her neighbors.

When we’re back in the car and driving home, Roxanne smiles. “How do you feel that went?”

I shrug. “Pretty good, I guess. I don’t think there was a better option, but I suppose you’re about to tell me what I could have done better.”

“Nope, you’re right. I think you found the perfect solution. My guess is that the barking bothers him more than the poop, and it was just an excuse to have a valid complaint. If she sticks to her side of the agreement and limits the barking, I suspect they’ll get along fine from here on out. Great job.”

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