The Sheriff's department needs to hurry up - some of us have school tomorrow

Why am I waiting on the law?  Well, here's the story.

Meet Izzy.

Yes, Peggy Sue is trying to clean his ears.  He's my neighbor's dog, and the first time he showed up in my yard, I almost panicked because he is HUGE.  And he has RULL BIG TEETH.  But then he started playing nice with Peg, and I was fine with Izzy.  Peggy loves friends, and that's cool with me.  I don't discriminate, man.  And Peg is all kinds of multicultural.

But then, our issues started.  Izzy came through our little doggy door on the screen porch.  And I mean the little doggy door that Peggy barely fits through.  I guess he figured if he tried hard enough, it'd work out.  Clearly, it did work out, since he ripped out the doggy door and the whole lower panel of the screen.  Even pulled some screws out!  I wish I had PB's reaction on video - except it probably wouldn't be interwebs (or anywhere)-appropriate.  

Still though, I said nothing.  Stuff happens, he's a big dog, whoopsies, whatever.  I don't like to be a bad neighbor and I don't like to be a whiner to folks about stuff like that.  Then on Friday, I was out on the porch watering plants, and Izzy shows up again.  As soon as he got in my yard, some little boys (two brothers, maybe around 10 and 8), walked their dogs down the street by my house.  And Izzy flipped.  

He ran out in the street and started attacking this little boy's dog, trying to rip his ear off.  I threw down my watering can, ran out into the middle of the street, and what ensued was most likely the biggest spectacle my little alley of a street has seen in a long time.  Probably it was hilarious if you weren't me and you weren't freaking out.  

This poor little boy was trying to pull his dog away from Izzy, I had ahold of Izzy and was trying to pick him up and pull him off the other dog (you can imagine how successful that was).  When that effort failed, I just started punching and kicking him as hard as I could.  I know y'all, that sounds awful, but I was so scared he was going to hurt this kid's dog worse, or even scarier, turn on the kids in the state that he was in.  Also, picture me screaming at the top of my lungs at the dog as I'm punching and kicking and flailing my arms.  It was fantastic!

Thankfully, all this screaming drew out the neighbors, and the kids' dad came down the street and started helping me basically kick Izzy's tail.  It took us about three attempts of getting him off the other dog and him re-latching before we got him off and I dragged him across my yard and down to his house.  

My neighbor is a little old lady whose 19 or 20 year old granddaughter (and Izzy's mom) lives with her.  The little lady happened to just be coming in from her car when I got there, so I panted that Izzy had just attacked another dog, could she please put him up, because I needed to go check on everyone else.  Oh, and meanwhile, the kids' dad thinks he's MY dog, so he's screaming at me that my EFFING DOG needs to be LOCKED UP while I'm running across the yard.  It was like redneck Jerry Springer out there, y'all.  

Finally, I get back and we get the situation straightened out with him, and at this point, all the neighbors are on porches, doing the old looky-loo.  Some sweet little old lady walks down the street and tells me she almost had a heart attack the first time Izzy showed up in her carport while she was sitting out there reading the paper.

It would appear at this point that I've become the point person for the let's-get-Izzy-under-control campaign.  I was going to assume the neighbors had handled their escapee problem, until he showed up on my porch AGAIN the very next morning. I brought him home, talked to his owner, told her what happened and what the neighbors were saying.  Her response?  "Well, I always let him out in the fence.  We just have holes in it so he always gets out."  Um, I'm sorry, if you know the fence is ineffective, why aren't you walking him on a leash?  I know it sucks, but so does him tearing up all my stuff and attacking kids' dogs.

Tonight was the last straw.  I let Peg out before bed, I hear awful yelping from the porch, and I go over to find Peggy at the back door, jumping and whining to get in.  She was fine, and there was no sign of Izzy except his howling out in my yard, and the fact that he peed on my nice outdoor lamp and my table, and ate all my cat's food.  Fantastic.

So if something happens to me, it's probably because my neighbor shot me, because I called the sheriff's department.  Now don't worry, I know none of this is Izzy's fault, I told them he isn't aggressive toward people and I just really want someone else to come talk to her, since what I'm saying clearly ain't working.  

But holy crap y'all, I called over an hour ago.  Some of us have 30 tenth graders to see bright and early.  Let's get our hineys out of the What-a-Burger and over to the alley por favor!