Tinka

Tinka is our neighbor’s dog.

And I kind of hate her.

Which, isn’t really fair — because she’s a sweet dog.

I guess I sort of hate our neighbors.

Their backyard isn’t completely fenced — they have a pool like we do, and that area is fenced, but that’s it.  The rest is open to the woods behind our houses. So when Tinka is outside (for hours), they keep her clipped to some sort of line, so she can run around.

The problem?

This dog is some sort of escaping genius. She’s like Houdini.

So at least once a week, Tinka will show up in my front yard, or across the street, running everywhere, jumping on everyone, and torturing her neighbor dogs (because she’s tied to a string in her yard for hours at a time, so I’m sure she’s desperate for attention) and Mike and I routinely catch her (which is easier said than done) and take her back home, where the response is always something like, “Oh, Tinka, you silly thing! She does this all the time!”

Uhh, yeah, I know. I’ve showed up on your doorstep with your dog at least two dozen times, remember?

They never, ever look for her. It’s really irresponsible.

Plus! I just found out from our other neighbor (who I adore) that a couple down the street leave food and salt licks in their backyard to tempt wild animals into their yard (because that sounds fun??) and one of her dogs got loose and ended up down the hill in that yard (probably because of all the food) and was seriously injured when she fell on a rusty old gate. Gross. So I’m amazed Tinka is still in one piece.

I’m terrified what Daisy & Jake would do if they ever got out of our yard, so it’s like Fort Knox back there.

Also, you know, I love them — so I let them in the house, and don’t keep them tied up and ignore them for hours at a time.

 

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