Dog talk

Hoffbrau and I finally had a chat. 

I had had enough of his incessant high-pitched bark: yap-yap-yap, yap, yap, yap-yap-yap, yap, yap, yap, yap-yap, yap-yap-yap, yap-yap, yap, yap-yap, yap yap yap, yap, yap-yap.

Hoffbrau, the neighbor's dog, suffers from separation anxiety.  The moment my neighbors leave for their kids' little league game, he barks his little canine head off, begging and begging for them to come back.

I've considered asking my neighbors to keep Hoffbrau indoors when they leave, but our relationship has been cordial and I've not wanted to create embarassment.  They've always returned well before 10:00 p.m.  Shouldn't I be able to put up with occasional barking if they are able to put up with me starting the car engine next to their bedroom window well before their waking time every morning?  Good relationships deserve small sacrifices.

Not that I am entirely saintly.  I have entertained fantasies of feeding Hoffbrau a Benadryl-laced biscuit. I have cursed him in three languages.  I've wished him laryngitis and the dog flu.  I've yelled at him from the kitchen window and complained about him to my children and boyfriend.

Tonight, I just walked to his pen. 

- Hey! What's the matter with you?

I could tell he was confused.  I crouched to take his picture.

- I'm going to write about you.  Everybody will know you are a barker.  Is that how you want to be remembered.  Uh?

He turned his back.

- Go ahead, tell me.

We stared at each other from across the chain-link fence.  I snapped his picture.  Maybe it was the flash or maybe it was my accent: Hoffbrau retreated to the garage.  I haven't heard of him since.

Anybody needs help with a barking dog, call me.  I'll show up with my camera.