I'm going to go green and recycle an old post to discuss this blight on my otherwise happy life. It's Saturday, and I'm too lazy (as previously mentioned) to write a new post. Have a great weekend!
We are cat people stuck in a dog neighborhood. I swear; EVERYONE in our neighborhood has a dog, or multiple dogs, as demonstrated by the howling that precedes the sounds of sirens and the constant barrage of barking that ensues if we dare play in our backyard. While growing up in the country, I didn’t mind dogs, I actually liked them, but I fear town living has forever damaged my relationship with dogs. They drive me crazy (for proof, read this)!
It’s only fitting, that as the only family on our street without a dog or two, we are the only people with a concrete dog perched on our mailbox. Yes, that’s right; a statue of a bird dog with a DEAD PHEASANT in its mouth greets our visitors. Isn’t that lovely? We welcome people to our house with death. Mwah Haa Haa Haa (that’s supposed to be an evil laugh).
The man that lived in our house before us obviously was a dog person. The shed in our backyard was used as a dog house for the man’s bird dog. A whole shed! The man put a window air conditioner in the shed and a glass door, so the dog could sit in the cool air conditioning and look outside! A glass door in a shed! I guess his wife was a cat person because one would think he would just let the dog in the house instead of going to the trouble to put a cooling system into a shed. The woman wouldn’t let her husband’s dog in the house, but she didn’t mind having the dog immortalized on the mailbox. At some point, the couple put the statue of a hunting dog on the brick mailbox, and then they moved and left the mailbox for the next owners to enjoy (us).
When we bought our house over five years ago six years ago, I thought we would get rid of the dog. After buying a house though, trivial purchases like new mailboxes seemed unnecessary, and the dog statue actually proved to be a little handy when visitors are trying to find our house. I mean, who else has a concrete dog in front of their house? Some of the little kids on our street really like the dog, too. Now though, the dog’s paint is chipping off, and it’s starting to get more and more unrecognizable as a dog all the time. It’s starting to look pretty tacky. :) This spring, we have to either paint the dumb dog or get a new mailbox! Preferably, one without a dog statue.
I find it amusing that as the only people without dogs on our street, we’re the only ones that appear oddly infatuated with canines. We don’t even own a dog! We’re cat people! Aren’t life’s little ironies grand?
The owners of this dignified mailbox value tradition. They have a meticulously clean house and strive to always appear that they have life under control. The husband and wife have separate bedrooms.
As apparent by this bird-poop-covered mailbox, a man is the owner of this house. A stubborn, somewhat conceited man who has a thing for marigolds. He refuses to do what everybody else does and doesn't care if all the other mailboxes on the street are on a pole. He takes pride in the fact that HE was smart enough to put his on a wheel.
A former playground bully owns this unique mailbox. He/she likes to intimidate others as indicated by the treacherous looking hooks hanging from either end of the box. Each day, the mail person has to stick his or her hands into a gaping mouth. The owner of this mailbox would like to lure the neighbors into thinking that he/she just likes to fish, but really, he/she is hiding a secret ambition to be the neighborhood crime lord.
This chipped concrete dog mailbox is owned by a procrastinator. As indicated by the chipped paint and lack of care, the owners obviously, don't like the concrete statue and meant to get rid of it years ago. A symbol of ignored requests, this mailbox is the laughingstock of the neighborhood. Inside the house, frustration mounts. A woman with a sledgehammer calculates Rover's demise...
