As she left, I wondered exactly who she was having a conversation with-it surely wasn't me.
The straw that broke open my bank book was not the discussion I had with her husband last week about reaching over the fence and touching the dogs. It was actually more of a fight. He was at the fence messing with the dogs again and I said "I really wish you'd ignore them"....and he blustered "Well, I HAVE to talk to them and get them used to me so they will quit barking. And that new one (my border collie puppy) BIT me when I stuck my hand through the fence."
We've had many variations of the discussion-no touch, no eye contact, please refrain from bending over the fence and picking up my chihuahuas so you can pet them, please keep your friend's 80 pound Golden on your side of the fence....etc. So I tried the short, terse approach and said "how about you stop sticking your hand through the fucking fence?" and began at once to make plans for my NEW fence.
He began to bluster about "if I'd only told him", and besides he needed (NEEDED) to pet the dogs, it would stop them from barking, and I came to realize that it was a brick wall-no body was home. So I made a finito sign and said "we're done" and walked off.
He has been better about ignoring the dogs, and there is no barking. Except during the two bonfires that they lit over the past week. The pit is about 10 feet in front of the main gas line, next to the tent where the homeless relative is staying. Ok, that's mean. He probably had a home before the hurricane blew it away, but why won't they let him stay in their house?
So, hurt feelings aside, I am going ahead with my fence plans and if they think I'm "uppity", well, so be it.