We met our next door neighbor on the other side of the house today. On a scale of one to ten on first impressions, I think we scored a minus five. Orso was outside with us while Mitch was assembling our new mower so I could cut the grass and I was going in and out dragging more boxes and containers in the house to unpack. Orso was just hanging out lying in the grass being good until he decided it was time to explore the neighborhood. I looked up and no Orso, Mitch went through the house checking each room and no Orso. I checked the backyard and side yard, no Orso. Great, we’ve lost our dog in a new foreign neighborhood.
Mitch stood out in the street scanning the other houses and yards, searching for a missing hundred pound brown dog. Our next door neighbor walked to the end of her driveway and asked Mitch if he was looking for a big brown Labrador. Mitch said yes he was. I had just walked to the end of our driveway when I heard her response.
She said, “Well he just took a great big crap in my yard.” Oh yay.
I turned around and went back inside to get a poop bag, thinking great just great, now she hates us. I walked out to see Orso standing next to Mitch looking quite pleased with himself.
She said, “He is quite friendly, he walked right up to me wagging his tail, but you never know with a strange dog how they might act.”
We stood there talking to her trying to be polite and hope that the future would not be judged by this initial meeting. I held Orso’s collar so he couldn’t wander off and poop again or worse. Just when I thought things might not be that bad, Orso shook his head and splattered her with a big long tendril of slobber. She looked down at her arm and Orso, probably wandering if his drool was toxic or caused cancer. All I could do was stand there and apologize. I looked around for a sinkhole or large rock to hide under, but no, nothing that easy was going to help me get away from this moment in time.
First Orso poops in her yard, then he showers her in dog drool, the only thing he hasn’t done yet is hike his leg and pee on her. At this point I wasn’t sure that wasn’t about to happen. I’m sure we are going to be great friends.
A woman's view of hunting...with men 
Hey Susan, Orso may be right.
Yes I know but he could have waited a bit longer before making himself at home.
Aw, he was just breaking the ice for you; dogs believe in interaction with people…. As long as it doesn’t become a habit. I’m sure she’ll get over it. If nothing else. it provides an opportunity for dialogue, as well as a ready-made subject to discuss…
😉
Make some brownies, & take ’em over to share… chocolate fixes all….
gigoid
Good idea, maybe a bottle of wine too.
There you go; now you’re talkin’…. If you take chocolate, either a Merlot, or a Cabernet works VERY well with it… Classically trained chef talking now….
😉
Works for me, now I know who to go to with any food questions.
🙂
Any time; I love to talk food… Love to eat it, too, but, that’s merely a personal problem, now controlled…
😉
You and me both. I can sit and talk about food and wine all day.
Maybe a gift of something brown isn’t a good reminder! Ha! Unless she has a good sense of humour.
I had a 160lb unneutered male dog. He very rarely decided to hump people, but once he tried it on the new neighbor’s 8 year old daughter. He was big enough it was paws on shoulders, but the hip movement was unmistakable. Yeah, never saw them again.
I can’t imagine why
Sounds like the new house is working out alright (though I will put the neighbors on “TBD” status). If it is any consolation, Choppy met one of our older, retired neighbors and promptly decided to give her a hug, which consists of her putting her feet on a person’s shoulders. I was so thankful that she didn’t knock the poor woman over that I almost forgot to apologize for the giant dog footprints on her shirt!
Aren’t they wonderful that way?
They certainly help us make an impression on those around us!
Yes they do. They always keep us grounded.