He doesn’t even know me.
But I can’t blame him. I have the nerve to trespass into my back yard and cut my grass. I make all this racket, right up against the privacy fence. What’s he supposed to do? Well, he has to bark his face off with vicious fervor, that’s what. It’s his job.
Neighbors be darned. It’s not his fault they don’t like all the commotion. This is beyond his control. If his owner would just call him, he’d gladly go in to enjoy a drink and a treat, but Master is otherwise detained on YouTube or Nintendo Switch. Until then, Fido has no choice but to continue to go insane.
Poor guy. It must hurt his snout to jam it between the pickets to the point they’re breaking loose. I’m sure he’s concerned with the cost of the repairs. Not so much who’s paying for it. Some poor sap’s going to shell out a couple hundred bucks to replace those boards. But it’s not his problem.
No, he’s got a responsibility. Keep screaming his lungs out until he breaks through the fence and properly eats me, or I stop the appalling noise I’m making on my property. Which ever comes first.
It’s a quandary. My grass needs cut. But I don’t want to die.
Anybody know a good lawn service?