Noise

Like every minor annoyance in life, sometimes it is best to ignore things and just let sleeping dogs lie. I wish they would lie down and sleep. My neighbor is a nearly deaf diesel mechanic. He is a proud man who takes he lawn very seriously. He is under the assumption that I have a bone to pick with him, because I have given him strange looks in the past as he toils over his piece of land. Anyone who would brave heat stroke to edge their property is a bit off. But that is a mere quibble compared to his dog whom I have dubbed Pepper. Don't start jumping down my throat about not liking dogs, because I have had two (actually four, but the former two were footnotes) that I deply loves and broke my heart when they passed on. Barney was a orange menace, part Brittany Spaniel, part Golden retriever and an endless set of escape tactics. Hoss was a Black Lab mix who adopted me due to the affection I would give him everyday. Affection I wish my neighbor would imbue Pepper with. She seems like the sweetest dog in the world and was still a puppy when the older dog that she shared the pen with died suddenly. Almost matter of factly, My neighbor buried the older dog and Pepper mourned for almost a month. Her baleful howls and bellows broke my heart and I would often go outside and talk to her. But now that new tenants have moved into the house adjacent to her pen, she takes delight at parking whatever she sees and hears. Yelling and negative reinforcement do nothing for a dog. So I suppose I'll just have to keep being the gentle voice on the other side of the fence