2:40 a.m. and I guess the Dramamine I took to relieve my nausea and help me sleep worked for a few hours at least. But now I'm wide awake again. Thanks to you, Old Yeller. Boy howdy, you sure love to yell. I live across the street and down two houses and you still make me jump. You yell for a reason - you have three tiny Pomeranian dogs that yap incessantly. High pitched yapping. "SHUT UP!" "F*)#* YOU!" "GET IN HERE!" When I first moved here, I was considering calling the Police because I thought it was a domestic disturbance that might turn violent. Imagine my surprise when I saw the victims of your wrath. You clearly have smoked most of your life, and your voice is pretty impressively gravel-like and quite, quite loud. You are constantly drunk, live alone for all I can tell, and I've been told other neighbors have complained to the County about your dogs. And your yelling. But in the final scheme of things, I can tell you love your little dogs, and if you were capable of controlling their yapping I think you would. Maybe you yell so loud at them because you want the rest of us neighbors to hear that you are trying to silence them and you are doing your best. But your screaming is getting on my last nerve. Multnomah County has now made it so that you can't anonymously report a barking dog situation - you have to sign your name and be willing to appear in Court to testify against the people you are reporting. Too stressful. Yell away, I guess.
Old Yeller Strikes Again
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