The Neighbor’s Dog, Bites and Concrete Blocks

My neighbor’s have a dog. They have lived across the back fence from us for  15 years I think. But we really don’t know them.

Why don’t we know them? Because we are anti-social. Just kidding. Because they speak an eastern European language and not much English. I have tried to learn some phrases to say to them over the years but the reaction looks like this:


Speaking of dogs, as I walked into the kitchen Sunday afternoon, my peripheral vision registered movement in my backyard. A black and white furball running around.

Our neighbor’s dog! I marshalled the forces plus dog treats and out we went!  He was having a great time running around and didn’t make any moves to escape our yard.

After a while we figured out his point of escape from his own yard and pushed the grass down. We baited him with dog treats:


And, after a bit we got him back into his own yard. Well, actually after a BITE! My son tried to pick him up, but Puma wanted no part of it. Nothing bad, just a couple scrapes. And his rabies shots were up to date.

So that was our Sunday adventure. Now we have a couple very attractive concrete blocks where Puma snuck under the fence. Very attractive in a retro-50’s-Wisconsin kind of way.


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