My Neighbor Called My Rescue Dogs ‘Disgusting’ and Told Me to Get Rid of Them – I’m 75, and She Learned a Lesson Real Fast
A neighbour felt my rescue dogs didn’t belong in our neighbourhood as I was taking them on a typical walk. What occurred showed her, and a few others, that kindness has a way of standing its ground.
I’m 75 years old, born and reared in Tennessee. I’ve spent most of my life taking in the ones nobody else wanted. When I was younger, I didn’t intend it that way. One broken and forgotten item at a time, it simply occurred.
When I was younger, I didn’t intend it that way.
As a girl, I initially saw injured birds by the water. Then it was stray cats when my husband and I acquired our modest house. After he departed, it became dogs.
Not the cute ones crowds lined up for, but those that people muttered about. The fearful ones. The injured ones. The ones who had previously learned what it felt like to be left behind.
That’s how Pearl and Buddy came to be.
After he departed, it became dogs.
They were small rescue dogs, both under 20 pounds, both unable to utilise their back legs.
Pearl had been hit by a car, and Buddy was born that way. The rescue group equipped them with wheels, and that changed everything.
My dogs don’t walk or run like others; they roll.
Their tiny carts create lovely clicking sounds on the sidewalk, and when they move, their whole bodies seem to smile!
As though they have only ever experienced happiness, they wag their tails.
My dogs don’t walk or run like others; they roll.
Most people who see them as I walk them smile, but some usually stop. Children wave and ask enquiries.
Adults stoop to enquire them names or say something like, “Well, will you look at you,” or “Aren’t you two something special.”
Anyone with a heart can notice that right away. These dogs have survived.
It began much like any other Tuesday. The air was warm but not heavy, and the sun hung low enough that the street was half in darkness.
Pearl rolled forward, sniffing every mailbox as if it held a secret only for her. Buddy stayed close to my ankle, his wheels thumping gently against the curb. “Will you look at yourself, then?
We were halfway down the block on our customary walk when Marlene walked outdoors.
She lives three homes down, a woman of 55 who always looks pressed and proper, as if she had somewhere important to be even while she’s standing in her garden.
Marlene was the neighbour who watched people via her blinds. Everyone knew that.
She pretended to be the owner of the entire block, and perhaps she was.
The neighbour who kept an eye on everybody was Marlene.
Marlene glanced at Pearl’s wheels, not with curiosity but with something bitter. She wrinkled her nose and constricted her mouth as if she were staring at something unpleasant or smelling spoilt milk.
Then she said it, loud enough that anyone close could hear. “”Those dogs are repulsive!”
My shoes scraped the pavement because I stopped so quickly.
My hands clenched on the leashes without me meaning to.
Her jaw contracted, and she wrinkled her nose…
Pearl glanced up at me, charming as ever, her ears twitching, eyes bright and trusting. Buddy kept rolling in place, his wheels whirling as if he didn’t comprehend why we’d stopped.
The poor creature was incapable of comprehending brutality.
However, I did.
Marlene crossed her arms and took a step closer. “This isn’t a shelter. People don’t want to see… that. Get rid of them.
For a second, I couldn’t speak or move.
I felt heat creep up my neck, and my chest squeezed tight as if something heavy had settled there.
The poor creature was incapable of comprehending brutality.
I had been called plenty of things in my life, but no one had ever spoken about my pets as if they were trash.
My hands automatically tightened even more around the leash.
I stared her right in the eye and heard my mother’s voice come out of my mouth. “Calmly, I said, “Bless your heart.” “That dog, in fact, both of them, saved me, not the other way around.”
She squinted her eyes.
Sharp and certain, she lowered her voice and leaned in closer. “Either you get rid of them, or I’ll make sure you do.”In actuality, I was saved by that dog and both of them, not the other way around.”
Then she turned on her heel and strolled back inside as if she’d just commented on the weather or said something totally sensible, instead of frightening her elderly neighbour.
Her door shut with a strong click.
I stood there longer than I meant to. My throat was burning, and my chest was still constricted. All I could think was, Lord, have mercy.
To be honest, I lacked the patience I formerly possessed at my age.
I’d learnt something better than patience.
I decided not to go up to her. Not then.
Her door shut with a strong click.
Instead, I chose patience with purpose.
At that moment, I made up my mind to give Marlene a lesson she would never forget.
She was going to learn the hard way not to mess with me.
So, the following day, I walked Pearl and Buddy earlier than normal. And the day following that, I walked them later.
I kept changing paths.
I timed our walks such that people were outdoors watering lawns or unloading groceries.
I lost comfort as a result. My knees ached more. And some days I returned home fatigued and sore.
However, I persisted.
She was going to learn the hard way not to mess with me.
I was able to hear the murmurs and learn more in this way. I’d learned a long time ago not to take threats lightly, so I wanted to be ready.
And what I heard from those who’d witnessed Marlene harassing me was pure gold. “Mrs. Donnelly murmured softly, feigning admiration for Pearl, “She once complained about my Christmas lights.” “Said they were an eyesore.”She phoned the city over my grandson’s bike ramp,” another neighbour added, shaking his head.
I didn’t talk badly about Marlene or contribute my own tale, although I believed the confrontation had already spread around the block. “Once, she expressed dissatisfaction with my Christmas lights.
Instead, I nodded and listened. That kind of restraint mattered because it kept people talking.
A few days later, as planned, Marlene increased things.
I was brushing Pearl on the front porch when an animal control truck showed up. A young officer stepped out, polite and formal, clipboard tucked under his arm. “Ma’am,” he added, “we received a complaint.”
My stomach dropped, but I remained silent. “About what?” I asked.
He gazed at the dogs. “Concerns about animal welfare and neighbourhood safety.”
A few days later, as planned, Marlene increased things.
Before he could speak more, I responded, “Would you mind waiting just a moment? I have some people who’d like to say something about the worries.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “All right.”
I rapped on three doors.
When Mrs. Donnelly walked out, I said, “Would you mind stepping over here for a minute?”
She sighed as she glanced at the truck.I sensed something.
Two additional neighbours joined us, one of them reluctant, eyes darting back toward Marlene’s house.
I rapped on three doors.
Marlene, knowing that she’d done it, finally stepped outdoors. A smile that fell short of her eyes was on her face. “What’s all this?” she enquired, appearing as if she weren’t behind it all.
The complaint was described by the officer.
Marlene’s hands were folded. “I was just worried,” she added gently. “Health risks, you know.”
At that moment, I spoke in a steady voice. “You called my dogs disgusting.”
She scoffed. “I never said that.”
Mrs. Donnelly cleared her throat. “You did. You stated it aloud. Then she also noted the unjustified Christmas light complaint.
Marlene’s grin wavered.
The complaint was described by the officer.
One neighbour paused, and for a time, silence almost won.
I felt my heart pound and realised this was the cost of choosing to speak.
I stepped forward. “I wake up alone,” I remarked quietly. “These dogs give me a reason to keep going. Pearl had to learn to trust again. Buddy learnt joy. And each found a way to learn to walk again.”
Pearl rolled up to the officer’s boot and waved her tail, and the officer glanced down at her.
That transformed the room. “I have motivation to keep going because of these dogs.”
The policeman shifted his weight and cleared his throat. He looked at Marlene, then at me, then back to the little gathering assembled on my lawn. “Ma’am,” he said to her, “there doesn’t appear to be any infringement here. These creatures receive excellent care.
A faint line formed on Marlene’s lips. “I was only trying to do the right thing. This is a family neighborhood.” “So am I,” I answered before I could stop myself. My voice didn’t shake. That astonished me. “And those dogs are my family.”I was only trying to do the right thing.” “I will note that this report was unsubstantiated,” the officer said. Then he gave Marlene a direct glance. “I also need to remind you that repeated false reports can be considered harassment.”
Her eyes blazed. “Are you threatening me?”No, ma’am,” he responded gently. “I’m informing you.”
That’s the moment the power switched for good!
I felt it like a breeze shifting direction. “Are you threatening me?”
Marlene, visibly upset, turned without another word and went back inside. Her door shut tighter this time.
The officer offered me a little smile. He remarked, “Have a good afternoon,” tipped his hat, and drove away.
For a few seconds, no one talked. Mrs. Donnelly clasped her hands together after that.Well, that was something.”
Another neighbour laughed, low and relieved. Someone reached down to scratch Buddy behind the ears.
I believed that would be the end of it.
I was mistaken.
Her door shut tighter this time.
The following day, someone dropped a note in my mailbox.
It read, “We love your dogs. Keep walking them.”
“Can I walk with you?” a young girl from two homes down said as she raced up to me the following day.
By the end of the week, I noticed people time their own routines around mine!
Doors opened when Pearl and Buddy rolled by. Folks waved from porches. Discussions began and continued.”May I accompany you on a walk?”
Then Mrs. Donnelly stopped me one afternoon and said, “You know, we could do something nice for them.” “For whom?” I asked. “Pearl and Buddy,” she stated. “They make people smile.”
And that’s how the roll parade was born!
It was nothing official. No licenses. Just neighbours deciding to get together and go for a walk on a Saturday morning. Some brought their dogs; others brought kids.
One man carried a bell and rung it every time Pearl rolled past. “They make people grin.”
Laughter erupted as we rounded the corner onto Marlene’s street. I had never heard Pearl’s wheels click so quickly. As though he knew this was for him, Buddy rolled forward.
Marlene peered from behind her blinds.
I didn’t look at her house as we passed. I didn’t need to.
At the end of the block, Mrs. Donnelly faced me and remarked, “You did well, old girl.”
I laughed, tears in my eyes. “So did they,” referring to both my faithful pals and the rest of the neighbourhood.
I didn’t look at her house as we passed.
Later that night, as the sun began to set, I sat on my porch with Buddy sleeping at my feet and Pearl curled up against my thigh. The street was quiet again, but it felt different now. Warmer.
I thought about how close I’d come to saying nothing, to letting fear trap me within. I thought about how easy it would have been to give up tranquillity instead of keeping my ground.
The street was quiet again, but it felt different now.
Pearl raised her head and gave me a look. I rubbed her ears and murmured softly, “We did all right, didn’t we?”
Her tail beat once, sure and steady.
Buddy snorted in his sleep.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt as if the whole block was home, and I knew Marlene wouldn’t screw with us again.
