Breaking the law

Well, this is awkward. How else do I start an entry about my neighbors without just straight up starting with the truth? I don't tend to hold much back here and I am very willing to embarrass myself but right now I am feeling ashamed. Very, very ashamed because it happened again. I am feeling a little bit angry too.

Our neighbors called the cops on us. AGAIN.

If you recall last spring, a certain neighbor (who shall remain nameless) *cough cough* was unhappy with our wonderful cul-da-sac chilling, wine drinking, children watching set-up. Details, details. If you need a refresher, you can check out the freaking fiasco here. The short story is that he lost. We sat and enjoyed our little bit whiskey tango yard all summer long.

Now another Nameless Neighbor is concerned about our cat. You remember, Tulip? Sweet, innocent tiny Tulip who isn't afraid to climb a tree, shit in the garden, and occasionally fetch a field mouse before retiring to her bowl on the coffee table?
 

Little shit

Said Nameless and Concerned neighbor called animal control and reported that we had an animal running at large. Concerned my ass. Concerned about his beautiful mulch garden, maybe but not at all concerned about our cat.

The whole thing is just unbelievable. Welcome to the land where here we have nothing better to do then call the cops about cats in gardens and furniture in the front lawn! There are real problems in the world. Children are starving in Africa! Women are being sold into slavery! Innocent cats are being held hostage in their homes!

The saddest part is that Nameless and Concerned Neighbor has never bothered to HAVE A FREAKIN' CONVERSATION about the whole thing. I'm sorry my cat is shitting in your garden. Would you like me to poop scoop that for you? CAUSE I WILL. I GLADLY WILL TAKE CARE OF THAT. But the truth is I am honestly no better. Since the call, we haven't walked across the circle to discuss the situation. Instead I tell the Internet my feelings in hopes of validation. 
 
As it is, Tulip is currently being held captive in the house until darkness descends upon the 'hood. She can't be caught again outside, lest we want to break her out of kitty juvie. When we see the neighbors, we smile and wave and pretend like everything is perfect. Kill 'em with kindness is still the law. While I am tempted to put a bag of flaming poo on their porch, I will refrain.

This is suburbia, after all. Some of us have appearances to keep up.

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