The apartment next door to mine went for sale last year. It remained vacant for several months until September when I noticed that someone had moved in. I’ve been living in my condo for five years and never had a problem with any of my neighbors. The couple that had lived next door previously were very quiet and had a small baby. Very occasionally I could hear the baby crying, but it never bothered me very much. I’ve dealt with crying babies.
I had an extremely harsh schedule last year. I had started my business and was trying to balance my finances working another part-time position. This meant long hours at the office and overnight hours at the hospital. I had also suffered a broken arm earlier in the year and was coping with pain and contractures, juggling work with physical therapy. I was cranky.
My new neighbor has two small dogs. Day and night, night and day all I would hear was the barking, barking, barking. When I would go to throw out my trash or recycle my plastics, bark, bark, bark. When someone walked out into the hallway, bark, bark, bark. It wasn’t one of those low-pitched barks. It was more like a high-pitched yap.
Now I have to tell you my history with dogs. I grew up next door to a German Shepherd named Clipper. He would gnarl his teeth at me and my sister when we would play in our backyard. It felt very threatening. Clipper once got loose and bit another neighborhood dog, Pebbles. Pebbles was sweet and rarely ever barked. Shortly after, she died. This made me even more terrified of Clipper’s threatening presence and barking.
I’m not implying that my neighbor’s small dogs are anywhere near as intimidating. They’re not, but one particular day I had worked a gazillion hours at the hospital and finished a sleepless day at the office. When I came home, I just crashed. Or at least, I thought I would crash. The barking got in the way. So what does one do in 2008 to figure out what to do about incessant barking? One googles “What do I do about my neighbors dogs barking?” There were MANY answers. One site made it clear that I should not, under any circumstance, knock on my neighbor’s door. It suggested that my neighbor might be violent and might (gasp) sic the dogs on me. Another site suggested buying some sort of machine that would emit a high-frequency sound every time the dogs barked. Only dogs could hear it and this would stop the barking. Yet another site had a template of a letter that I could write. And being a writer, I copied and pasted the letter with a few of my own choice words.
Anyone who knows me well can tell you to stay away from me when I get angry. It’s not pretty. All this was expressed to my neighbor. I expressed what would happen if the barking didn’t stop. I made it clear that I would notify the condo association and then proceed to “higher authorities” if necessary. Yes, I used fighting words. I made a copy of the letter and sent one to the condo association. I took a piece of Scotch tape and taped the letter to his door.
The next day when I came home, my doorman Gary stopped me. He said, “Your neighbor Jerry told me about what happened. Man, he was pretty upset that you left him that note.” This made me even angrier. How dare he tell MY DOORMAN that I left a note on his door?! Gary continued, “You know, you’re both nice people, it’s too bad you can’t just come to some sort of agreement.” But my ears weren’t listening anymore because steam was coming out of them. I stormed upstairs to my apartment. When I came out of the elevator I noticed that there was a PAPER TAPED TO MY DOOR. What was this? I opened it slowly. It read, “Dear Apartment 1191, I wish you hadn’t written a letter to the condo association. You could have approached me and let me know about this problem. I’m only 10 feet away. I didn’t realize that the barking was driving you crazy. I bought a machine that will hopefully help with the barking. Please be patient because it will take a week for delivery. Thank you. Jerry.” I know that this letter sounds innocuous. And I agree in the present that it is. But at that time, Jerry might as well have written, “Stop complaining, it’s not such a big deal, Get over it!” Clearly, that’s not what he wrote. I was wearing a shade of fuming red glasses at that time and saw everything in a different color. Jerry and dogs in Apartment 1190 now became my mortal enemies. I was preparing for combat and my poor doorman could do nothing about it.
My crazy hours continued, the barking went on for another week. Then it suddenly stopped. The machine must have arrived. I was still angry because I had endured months of incessant barking already. How could he not have known that it was bothering me? Didn’t he think about other people’s privacy and feelings? Too late for resolutions and apologies. All this time, I had never even seen my neighbor. I didn’t know who he was or what he looked like. We had only communicated with taped messages on each others doors. Gary the Doorman was the intermediary.
After working too many crazy hours I finally realized that I needed to slow down. I gave up my job at the hospital and devoted my working hours to my business only. Life was good again. I was no longer cranky and irritable. I began seeing the world with a nice happy shade of pink and yellow. Then the inevitable happened. I finally ran into my neighbor in the hallway on my way to throw out the trash. These were the words that literally came into my head: “Oh no….” This man was definitely NOT a jerk. His energy exuded nothing but kindness. He gave me a small awkward smile but didn’t say anything. This made me feel worse. I was the jerk.
It was the first week of 2008 and my first resolution was to make peace with my neighbor Jerry and his dogs. I went to a dog store called Canis Minor and decided that I would buy Jerry’s dogs a New Year’s gift of peace. What does one buy a dog? A bone? A doggie blanket? I finally decided on some dog treats and some sort of chew toy. I knocked on my neighbor’s door and anxiously anticipated some sort of negative interaction between the two of us. Instead, he opened the door and gave me a big warm smile. “Hi!”, he said. I spoke nervously, “I just wanted to make peace between us. I realize that I might have come on strong but I apologize and I hope we can be friends.” Jerry graciously accepted my gift, thanked me and expressed that he was happy that we were okay.
Since then, my neighbor and I are doing well. Occasionally I hear the dogs yapping, but it’s alright. For the most part, they remain quiet. I’m satisfied that I was able to come to a good place and not continue an unnecessary war with my neighbor.
Lesson learned? I am careful to notice what shade of glasses I am wearing. If they happen to be fuming red I give myself a time out and try to come back to the situation. It’s too easy to make snap decisions when I’m wearing that particular shade of glasses. I’ve also learned that people are not mind readers. I assumed that Jerry should have known that I was bothered by his dogs. Unless I express myself clearly I can’t assume that everyone will automatically know what I’m feeling and thinking. Wouldn’t life be easier if everyone could do the same?
