Between now and my last post, in which I was near eupohoric, I had last night.
They say, "into each life a little rain must fall." If that's true, it was a bloody hurricane last night. Not in the meteorological sense, but the the schnauzer sense. My downstairs neighbor has one. She was gone all night, the dog wasn't. It has separation anxiety and went NUTS, scratching on something metallic, rattling the door, and howling. A piercing, ear-splitting screech that approximates the sound of a female human voice. So imagine hearing that wail at 1 a.m., and 2 a.m., and 3 a.m., and 4 a.m....you get the idea. Around 4 I was thinking a little rat poison would be nice. Not for the dog. For the absent owner.
Let me explain the architecture of our building--there are 4 apartments, 2 on each side. I'm up on the second floor with a large light well that opens down onto Cruela DeVillle's first floor enclosed patio. There are tile floors and cement walls all around. So sound bounces around, echos a bit, and is amplified. It was like having the dog screaming in my right ear.
I've got some bad history with schnauzers. The woman I lived with in Phoenix (my oldest and best friend) had THREE of the critters, who barked at passing garbage trucks, visitors, passing boats on the lake, falling leaves, air.... When people came to the front door, they jumped all over them and set up a high-pitched, high-decibel cacophany. That's why I affectionately refer to schnauzers as "little devil dogs from hell." And, now, that's what I've got downstairs. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you.
