war is shit; shit is war

I go into the back yard a few days back and there's an elderly woman who is not the homeowner next door in the back yard. I'm assuming it's the homeowner's mother, but The homeowner walks out of her house and I give a friendly wave... she walks over.

She begins to complain about the dogs in the back yard. She claims that we don't pick up the dog shit often enough and that it keeps her and her mother from sitting in the back yard. She points to the older lady in the chair and says that she doesn't like the smell and she's sorry she has to say anything.

I'm like... this is my back yard... I'm not going to be dictated as to what I can and can't do in my own back yard.... especially by a bed ridden older lady... I appreciate the fact that she comes outside to "warm up" because she has no blood, but it's not my problem she doesn't like it. She doesn't like anything... she's old.

I basically ignored her and walked off. I came out the next day and she had put moth balls all up and down her fence line... I guess the scent of old people is preferable to dog shit... ok, whatever.

So I'm out there this morning and she makes a big production of walking outside, taking her box of moth balls and dumping them on the ground. ... of course you realize... this means war.