It’s Not My Dog That Barks!

Oh yes, it is! The only person in the street who doesn’t believe your dog is a frequent high-decibel nuisance is you!

We moved to this quiet suburban area years ago. Back then, the loudest sound was the breeze rustling through gum trees or the occasional kookaburra laughing at us from a power line. Peaceful. Blissful. Then the holiday homes began to change hands. Out went the weekenders, in came the new full-timers—complete with one accessory they all seem to think makes their new life “complete”: a dog. Sometimes two.

Now, don’t get me wrong—I like dogs. They wag their tails, slobber happily, and chase balls as though they’ve discovered the meaning of life. But when their owners leave for work, that “meaning of life” suddenly becomes standing at the fence and barking at every leaf, passing car, or cloud that dares drift overhead.

Naturally, when we mention this to the owners, the response is always the same:
“Oh, it’s not my dog that barks. It must be the neighbour’s dog over the back.”

Without exception, no one ever claims responsibility. Meanwhile, the neighbourhood soundscape resembles a kennel at feeding time. It becomes a cycle—ask politely, escalate, escalate, escalate—until someone eventually bursts with frustration.

I heard of one poor neighbour who resorted to tossing a drug-infused meatball over a fence just to get a night’s sleep. That’s not a proper solution, of course, but it does highlight how desperate people get when their nerves are frayed at 2 a.m.

Ironically, when the owners are home, the dogs are quiet little angels. They nap, they stretch, they look positively innocent. But the moment the car drives away? A barking concerto begins.

Surely there’s a better way. Perhaps if owners listened more carefully to their neighbours, they’d take complaints seriously before things get out of hand.

Do you live near a four-legged soprano? How do you keep your sanity?

–Michael (Dark fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)