Never mind this.

House with tires.

April 2, 2016

Gunther and I made the usual foray west.  The sun was up and he didn’t act frightened this time.  He pooped at the last house on our block, the one with all of the colorfully painted tires.  The one with “Posted Keep Out” signs on the windows.  And a cross dangling from the porch.

The people who live there act as if others are a threat to them.  They have multiple signs warning intruders to keep out.  They have security cameras at the entrance and on the side of the house.  The inexpensive kind of camera, the kind you can plug into a computer.  I’ve met the woman who lives there, and she seems friendly.  I asked her if I could take a picture of the pretty tires.  I think her husband was the perfectly friendly guy with all of the tattoos.  Anyway, someone said I could snap a picture.

The younger looking, smaller guy, might be tattoo man’s brother, the one who roars around the block and up the alley on a four-wheeler.  He would be the one with the foul language who cursed at the preschool-age girl when his colorful tires were still tacky from the colorful paint.

Anyway, I picked up G’s poop and off we went, looking to put the baggie in a dumpster in the alley.