How Serious Illness Sometimes Produces Improvement in A Bully's Attitude
I've seen it happen before, but it's too easily forgotten when one of those people is busy dishing it out.
Anyway, yesterday I had an unexpectedly civil - even cordial - visit over the fence with my southside neighbor. All the internet space worldwide would hardly contain the litany of complaints I could repeat against him; however, I've also seen his health failing for over a year now. This is the first time he's had to stay home while the hunting buddies he hosts go out without him. It hasn't helped his mood any either, knowing I'll never return his interest. Most of the tiny town here ribs me about it, and I doubt they spare him either.
So when I saw him puttering around on his back patio, I waved him over to explain that if the hunters would call and notify me as soon as they wanted to dress a deer in the yard, I'd be more than happy to bring my dogs inside. The smooth-coat Jack Russell, who's 2" over the extra height allowed her breed by the AKC, can step over a 4' fence if she feels like it. I don't want her eating wormy raw meat either.
Anyway, Nasty Neighbor has decided he just loves that dog to pieces though he disputes her heritage. He used to raise pointers and thinks she's at least half pointer with a little traveling salesman thrown in. That made me laugh. Who really knows with a stray? What matters to me is that his attachment to her, along with his serious illness and likely impending death, has gradually freed him of some of his notorious animus. He had really been displeased with my big handcrafted pro-Obama campaign sign in my yard. While he did take care to remind me yesterday that he's 'not a liberal', he wasn't mean about it and shared a personal sorrow in his life. He and a former close friend parted ways forever over politics and haven't spoken in over 3 years. I could tell it saddens him.
He reassured me that if my JR does go over the fence that he and the hunters will take the best of care with her. "She likes me," he kept saying as if he could hardly believe it, but I know he would look out for her regardless of how he harrassed and hated my chows. He just doesn't handle rejection well.
I'd planned, as soon as (now if?) his own deer stand gets removed from where its crowded against the back corner of my flexible wire fence, pushing it in at least 2", to place enough of my own junk between my shed and the fence so that he couldn't cram his deer stand back there again. I'll still do it, but knowing his time's short on this earth has removed some of my hurry. I can afford to be patient. I don't mean that in a ghoulish way. It's just that I have a hard time fighting with desperately sick people, especially when they show obvious signs of trying to make peace with me to any small degree. I'm glad we got to have a little visit. And that he admitted to being almost deaf, a fact which I will point out if he ever again calls the town cop on me for my allegedly barking dogs. The chows would've ignored him if he hadn't harrassed them; as it was, every time he came and went from his home, they were plastered against the fence, glaring and usually growling at him. If he approached the fence, they grew much more intense. At least he had the sense to know they weren't bluffing.
I used to think I'd dance for joy when he's gone. Now I expect instead to attend his funeral if it's held in town. Might even miss him a little.
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