Ladies and gentlemen of the Internet, meet George.
George is one of the two dachshunds that lives next door, although he is the more vocal of the pair. We know his name because one day, while we were grilling in the back yard, the neighbors let George and his companion out to play, and George, as he is wont to do, came right over the fence to bark up a storm. It’s a friendly bark, complete with bright eyes and wagging tail, but I’ve got to tell you, it’s wicked annoying after the first two to three minutes. And this is coming from someone who loves dogs.
Anyway, just after Steve asked him, in a low voice, if he wanted to join the pork chops on the grill, the matriarch next door opened the screen door and rasped, “George, get in here.”
The neighbor matriarch also rasps, “Shaddup, George,” and “George? Be quiet,” and “George, sshh!” Her voice sounds like cigarettes smell.
I find it bizarre that we have no idea what the other dog’s name is. We only know George. He’s clearly more social, sticking around after the other dog has given up on the barking and returned to the base of the concrete back steps to the neighbors' house.
“I request a post about George because he pisses me off and interferes with my pensive garden moments,” Steve emailed me last week.
The other day, in pursuit of a George photo, I crept to the fence that separated George from our yard. He whined a little between barks, clearly disturbed by the approach of a small, silvery camera. I began to shoot, and, about seven pictures in, the daughter of the matriarch, who bears a similar voice, took a smoke break to come out and collect George.
I feigned like I’d just come over for a visit. “He’s such a cute dog!” I squealed. “He just wanted to be friendly!”
The neighbor’s daughter eyed me suspiciously, a hard smile stretched across her face. “Right,” she said. “C’mon, George.”
She picked him up and disappeared back in their house. I wandered back over to the grill.
“I’m so busted,” I whispered.
“What, because you were standing at their fence taking pictures of George barking at you?” Steve said. “I can’t imagine how that could possibly look suspicious.”