Starting last Friday, at around 10:40 in the morning.
Heard weird noises outside, sounding like dogs and cats going at it. Went outside to investigate. Chased inside by dogs. Re-entered fray with a baseball bat in hand. Chased back inside by two pitbulls running loose from my neighbor’s house. For the first time in quite a while I was actually physically afraid. If I hadn’t had the bat they would have mauled me something fierce, and as it was they were trying to eat the aluminum bat to get at me. (For the record, a bat is no use as an offensive weapon againt more than one pitbull. If you swing at one of them you leave yourself open to the other, or even to the target if you miss. You have to use it to poke at them and keep them from getting their teeth on you. So there, you’ve learned something new if you didn’t already know that.)
Called 911 to report the attack. Forwarded to Orange County Animal Control, given a priority ticket at 10:49 AM. (Still haven’t heard from Animal Control almost a week later, and yes we have called back several times.) The dogs kept us inside until about 1:15 PM when my neighbor finally showed up and leashed the goddamned dogs – before leaving again. The dogs have decided that OUR yard is THEIR yard. In the time between the call to Animal Control and the owner showing up next door, the dogs tore out part of the bottom of out car. The police say there is nothing than can do when dogs attack. The police are absolutely goddamned useless.
Around 11:00 PM that night, we realized there was someone parked in the driveway and that someone was knocking at the front door. (This isn’t always easy to notice when in the back of the house.) Opened the door to find an older woman outside. Eventually figured out she was a Scottish (almost as difficult to understand as someone speaking Haitian Creole, if you do NOT speak Haitian Creole), had been either driving or riding in a taxi, and was reporting that they had just dropped off someone named ‘Jay’ at the house. ‘Jay’ had told them he was coming home to visit his son. But when he got out of the van he didn’t go to the front of the house (our house), he went back along the side setting off the security lights on that side and disappeared into the backyards of the neighborhood. The driver was warning us. Very strange. I slept in the back room that night to make sure no one would attempt coming through from that direction.
And then a little before 11:00 am the next morning, the doorbell rang again. This time it was a man named Fred looking for Vince, who used to stay here. My family has owned the house since it was built in 1960, and I let him know he must be mistaken as no one by that name had ever lived here. But he was gave me the man’s full name, Dr. Vincent Polite. I told him again that he must have the wrong address and wished him well. He was very courteous, and I don’t think he was trying to pull anything, it was just a case of a misremembered address. But it was a strange cap to those 24 hours.
Maybe I’ll tell you about the time I recently almost got arrested for child abduction, but that was another travesty that I just don’t feel like recounting at this time.
Good riddance to 2013.