Two Sides To Every Story
Side A
We have not given that woman one bit of trouble since we have moved into this house. But for some reason she feels that we have invaded her territory. From the first day we got here she has done nothing but yell and complain, about us and our dogs. “Keep those vicious mutts away from my cats,” or “If you don’t keep that noise down I’m going to call the police,” these are some of the nice things she would shriek at us. The topper was when she tried to blame our dogs for what happened to one of her endless herd of cats.
To start we have two toy poodles, who are rarely let out of the house except to go to the bathroom. These “mutts”, as she calls them, can barely out muscle a mouse that lives in our house let alone a full-grown cat. The only thing we know from that night was that it was about three o’clock in the morning and we were sleeping in our bed, with our dogs on the floor next to us. When all of a sudden we heard someone screaming outside, as my husband heard this he jumped out of the bed to see who it was. He opened the shades and the window and looked down to see who was making such a racket. In the backyard next door he saw the old lady running around screaming at the top of her lungs and waving her arms all over the place in nothing but her robe. At that point my husband closed the window and the shades and went back to bed. We just thought she was crazy and ignored it.
The next morning the police came to our house accusing our dogs of killing one of her cats. Fortunately, the police knew about her troubles with us and dismissed the whole incident. They also told us the reason why she might be upset with us. Supposedly her son was going to buy this house but we beat him to it. That explains a lot.
Side B
Those people have been nothing but trouble since the first day they moved in next door. Those dogs of theirs are always coming over here scaring my kitties half to death with that infernal barking and chase my cats all over the place. I’m seventy-three years old; my heart can’t take much stress. Imagine my shock at what I found in my yard. I know it was one of those vicious mongrels. I heard them!
It was about three forty-five in the morning on a Wednesday; I was woken up by a big ruckus going on in my yard. Ordinarily I would have sent my husband, Lester, out to look around. But he’s dead now so I don’t think he would have been much help. So I got out of bed to look myself, I walked over to the window opened it up and looked outside. Now my eyes aren’t as good as they use to be and it was a bit dark for me to see, but I know it was them. They were down there barking and howling and growling just as plain as day. Well, when I heard this I put on my robe and ran as fast as I could downstairs to get those mutts out of my yard. As soon as I opened the back door those animals ran so fast out of my yard I couldn’t even see them. They didn’t come back because they knew I was waiting for them.
The next morning my cats and I went out to the backyard to do some gardening. When I came out of the door, there in the middle of the yard, was a small pile of dirt and what looked like a dead plant sticking out of the center. As I moved closer I noticed it was a cat’s tail. It was Bert! The poor thing, he was the only one of my babies I let out at night. Those wolves next door killed him and buried him. That’s when I went back inside and called the police. I bet none of this would have happened if my son moved next door.