Like a good neighbor...

So I'm sitting out on my deck, enjoying my early Mother's day present of organic Pinot Grigio, freshly chilled in my new "wine cellar", working on my writing, while the sun sets behind me. It was one of those perfect moments that was only slightly ruined by the fact that my Mother's Day gift was alcohol once again. I have never thought of myself as a problem drinker, but as I look back on recent conversations, I do realize that I have asked a few people "Are you a drinker?" Not "Where are you from?" or "So what do you do for a living?" but "Are you a drinker?" Couple that with the fact that I giggled for 5 minutes over the onesie that reads "Mommy drinks because I cry"  and I guess I can understand why my husband and 11 year old figured booze was the way to go. In all reality though, the reason I ask is to determine one's tolerance of me. I find that somebody with a mild "buzz" will probably appreciate my humor more than one who has not imbibed recently. But I digress. It was a perfect evening.

I was sitting perfectly to observe my new neighbors comings and goings. Having  determined he was not a sex offender, (and that yes, he was a drinker) I was more or less being nosy and just trying to determine how quickly I wanted to put our house up for sale. I had already discovered, he drove a motorcycle, just like the last neighbor, but unfortunately, I discovered this after telling him what an asshole the previous biker had been. I don't want to assume that just because he rides a motorcycle that he too will wake us up at 2 in the morning while he revs his bike up. So i was feeling a little sheepish.

I needed some saving grace here. A way to still be a good neighbor and not that "annoying bitch who hates motorcycles". I needed to be cool.

I did what every red blooded Minnesotan would do. I stocked up the fridge with good beer. I made sure that we grilled good food so if we saw him, we could casually invite him over for a steak or lobster or whatever expensive piece of animal I could hands on. I really felt a strong desire to bond with this new neighbor.

So at 8pm last night, I was finally just relaxing on my deck, when I saw the cat. It was perched in the drivers seat of my neighbors very nice, very new truck.

At that moment, a million ideas went through my head. I could run inside, get shoes on, go over and let him know there was a cat in his truck. Too busybody? Yeah probably, plus the cat could leave while I was getting my shoes on and then I would look like an idiot. Should I run over, barefoot and scare the cat away? No, that seemed a little too intense and very much opposite from the "Cool neighbor" persona I was going for. I could yell for Dan to go get the cat, but that just seemed like the epitome of laziness. So I went for the bottom of the barrel. I unleashed my dog.

Dexter is a good dog, but he hates this particular cat. Running at the speed of light, he shot like a cannon over to the neighbors. The cat made the mistake of poking his head out the window and Dexter went absolutely ape shit, trying to jump into the bed of the truck and, I can only assume, rip the cats jugular out.

As I watch from the deck, praying that Dexter doesn't scratch up the side of the truck, my nice, non sex offending neighbor pops his head out, Im sure to figure out what the commotion is all about.

It's at this moment that Dexter, distracted by the fact that a man he doesn't know now lives next door, runs at the neighbor, teeth bared, barking and growling. I yell-no I scream- for him to shut the door, so Dexter doesn't attack him. I yell for Dexter to "get your ass over here!" (Like he is some disobedient 14 year old boy from the ghetto... yeah- that one always works) I can't chase after him. I'm barefoot and my one year old has gleefully watching all the action, to crying because I scared her with my hollering. Instead, I slam my hand into the deck. I shake my box of crackers like it's a treat. I swear. I ask nicely. Billy comes out and calls for the dog. I yell at Billy to go get him. My dog ignores me, aggressively barking at the bottom of my neighbors front steps. Effectively telling him, "You come out and I WILL rip your balls off!"

Meanwhile the cat slips out of the truck.

5 minutes later, out of breath and completely red in the face, Billy has the dog contained. The neighbor is peering out his kitchen window now.

"Sorry!" I call out with a shrug. "There was a cat in your truck!" I feel like I have just slapped him and told him there was a mosquito on his cheek, so I add- "For real!"

He just looks at me like I'm crazy and shuts his kitchen window.

I haven't seen my neighbor all day now.