***
That night I slept in my warm bed next to Jenny in ignorance not blissful ignorance just ignorance.
Not knowing that my days of a life I took for granted were numbered.
The next morning brought a new gift from the fucking dog and another "Sammy what's shaking brother?" from Tim or whatever it was the numb nuts said.
For the rest of the week I ignored Tim and the dog, “Tinker Bell” what a stupid ass name for a dog, and the new gifts that dotted the lawn leaving dead yellow grass in their wakes. I was working on closing one of the biggest accounts of my career. One that had the potential to move me up the company ladder and I wasn’t about to blow it so I did my best to ignore it and concentrate on work.
Friday was the day I had been waiting for. We closed on the account that morning and after celebrating through lunch with the boss and a few drinks I decided to go home early and continue the celebration with Jenny and the kids. I text Jenny to let her know I'd be home early. I figured an early dinner out. Come home tuck the kids in early for bed and then maybe I could tuck their mother into bed. As I pulled into the driveway I noticed that piles of dog crap that I had been trying to ignore all week had disappeared. By the time I reached the door I was on cloud nine. I found Jenny in the kitchen and judging by the way she kissed me she apparently had the same idea for the evening as I did. Later that night after we had returned home with the kids in bed and our hungers fulfilled, we lay in comfortable silence, her head resting on my chest. I kissed her on the top of her head and she tilted her head up to look at me.
"Good day?" She asked. I could hear the smile in her voice.
"Great day." I said, kissing her again "I got you and the kids. I closed the account. Hell even the hippie next door finally cleaned up the dog crap in the yard. Life's good."
"Oh."
"Oh, what?"
"Nothing."
"Jen?"
"He didn't."
"What do you mean he didn't?"
"I did it."
"You cleaned it up, why?"
"It was your big day. I didn't want you to come home and have it ruined."
The conversation went on with me bitching about the fucker next door and eventually calming down so Jenny wouldn’t have hurt feeling. Her heart was in the right place and I loved her for that, but after she had fallen asleep I continued to lay there awake stewing. At that moment I wasn’t sure who I hated more that dipshit Tim or his fucking dog.
The weekend went by fairly quickly Saturday morning I had some work to do on the computer so I spent most of the day in the small spare bedroom we had made into an office. On Sunday we followed our normal routine of sleeping in late followed by coffee and a big Sunday breakfast. We played board games in the afternoon, then made some steaks on the grill and finished off the evening with movies on the couch. Although the weekend had been great, in the back of my mind a thought had been brewing, more of a plan really. I hadn’t stepped foot out of the house all weekend except for the backyard to make the stakes and both had been on purpose, not leaving the house and making stakes. I had a plan to get rid of that little furry shit machine once and for all. Now that everyone was in bed asleep it was time to put my little plan in action. I slowly got out of bed so as not to wake Jenny and made my way to our bathroom and closed the door. I rifled through the bathroom until found the leftover bottle of pills from when Jenny had back surgery.
“Let see how you like these you little fucker.” I whispered to myself.
I moved silently through the house, pausing to make sure the kids were asleep. I retrieved the leftover steak from the fridge and a knife off the counter as I crept outside gently closing the door behind me. Sitting at the patio table I couldn’t help but laugh to myself, and out loud a little. I was finally going to be rid of the fucking dog.
The thought of Jenny in the front yard cleaning up dog shit with Tim and his mutt probably watching and god knows who ells made me see absolute red. I opened the pill bottle popping one of the little tablets in my mouth. The dog and I were both going to have a good sleep tonight. Just as he was going to be longer than mine, a lot longer.
I partially butterflied the steak and set it aside as I poured the rest of the pills on the table using the butt of the knife to crush them into powder. With the drugged steak in hand I slid around the side of the house and walked to the corner of the fence that separated our house from Tim’s and the front yard and tossed the steak over the fence to the spot where most of the dead grass was and laughed to myself as I made my way back to bed. The pill was starting to kick in. Oh, and for you sick few that thought I might have had other plans with the knife, what the hell’s wrong with you? I’m not that kind of person.
***
The next day, no dog, no Tim and no steak. I had visions of that stupid hippie pleading with the Vet to save his dog. I couldn’t help but smile as I got in the car.
Life was good once again with no sight of the dog or his looser owner at least until Friday when I came out of the house to find a new pile and Tim standing in his usual spot. The fucking shit machine dog was scampering around like always but Tim was less animated than normal. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, probably up worrying and nursing his sick dog back to health.
“Hello neighbor.” Tim said, spitting the word out as an accusation.
“Fuck you Tim. If that fucking dog shits in my yard one more fucking time.” Tim cut me off before I could finish my rant.
“Fuck you, man. I told you Tinker Bell didn’t.”
Not bothering with any other conversation I got in my car and left for work leaving Tim to curse at an empty yard. I simmered with rage the rest of the day not really concentrating on work, but by the end of the day I had come up with a new plan, one that would fix this shit once and for all. That night I made a little stop on the way home. I smiled as I placed the package from the sporting goods store in the trunk.
That night just like before I waited until everyone was asleep. The less anyone knew the better. I hadn’t complained or even mentioned the fucking flee bag or his dick head owner when I got home. I went out the back door to the small shed and felt around in the dark until I found it. My hand closed around the wooden handle of a shovel. I stood in the front door looking up and down the street. It looked like the coast was clear, not a person in sight. I made my way to the car and opened the trunk. It was still there, I'm not sure what I thought was going to happen; like I'd open the trunk and it would just be gone. I took the bag out of the trunk and closed it as quietly as I could. Looking up and down the street again, still quite. I walked over to the spot with the deadest grass and dug a small hole. Squatting down I pulled the small trap out of the bag and placed it in the hole and carefully spread the spring levers allowing the jaws open and stuck in the little pin to set the circular pressure pad. The clerk at the store said it was a foothold trap made to humanely trap and release animals like foxes and dogs. All I heard was it didn't have any teeth on it like a bear trap would. I slowly sprinkled dirt over it until you couldn't see the trap anymore. Even though it didn't have any teeth on it I still worried a little I'd set it off and end up losing a finger or something. Checking the street and the Windows of the other houses one last time I returned the shovel back to the shed and myself back to bed. Feeling pleased with myself I snuggled into the covers and fell asleep almost instantly. It must have been close to five in the morning when I heard it, a howl of pure agony. Jenny hadn't heard it at first, but as other dogs in the neighborhood started barking and the howling from the front yard got louder there was no way anyone was sleeping. You could hear voices in the front yard now. We grabbed our robes and headed for the front yard. A small crowd of people had gathered so I couldn't see the howling creature at first, but as I got closer and people moved aside. There on the ground writhing in agony with the trap clamped to his scrotum was....Tim.
Turn out Tim wasn’t liar after all. It wasn’t the dog, Tinker Bell.
I he
ard he’s going to get his own reality show.
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