It seems we have a stealth pooper in our midst. Yes folks, our new apartment has a handy little dirt patch right beside our patio, which also happens to be next to the stairs. Quite a lovely little plot of land, this dirt patch features a dead stick that I believe used to be a bush of some sort, a foul wet spot of urine (not ours, I can promise you) and a scattering of cat feces, both young and old. Ah, it’s a delightful scent, that of cat pee. The bouquet of ammonia and uric acid comes wafting your way as you enter our building, and each time I smell it, I’m filled with a tiny bit more of something… what is it? Ah yes, hatred. Good old hatred for the neighbor who lets her cat out to do its business in the dirt patch I so lovingly did nothing to.

How do we know it’s her cat? A few reasons, my friends. Exhibit A: a cat with jingling tags constantly prowls our walkway, suspiciously close to the neighbor across from us.  Exhibit B: We’ve seen her open her door to let said cat out (with the jingle-jangly tags), yet when she sees us leaving our apartment at the same time,  closes her door quickly without letting Puddles the Pooper out. Exhibit C: on one occasion, I had to run out to give the husband something, he was waiting in the car. Like your average distracted pet owner, I left the door open a crack. When I returned, Woofie had crept outside and was stalking Puddles the Pooper who was at that moment sniffing his previous work in our dirt patch,  when contact had been made, the cat leapt up in that magical way cats have, and flew over the neighbor’s patio wall. Now, if that kitty wasn’t hers, wouldn’t it have careened down the pathway to someplace not as close?

It’s tough because the smell and the sight is so displeasing. It’s embarrassing to bring friends over, and the first sight they see is a pile of cat poop. I’m not going to pick it up, it’s not MY cat, know what I mean? When we take Woofie out, we clean up after him. It’s the duty of having pets- you pick up after them!

As with that mess, we’re also dealing with an upstairs neighbor who has what I believe to be a taboo washer and dryer! Honestly, it’s to NO interest of mine (other than, “Heeey, I want one!”) what she has in her apartment, but when the washer/dryer is up against a corner in one of her bedrooms, it’s reverberating all throughout our bedroom! The walls literally vibrate for the 45 minutes the clothes are washing. Ah, it’s so fun getting used to a new place.

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