I have a crime to confess.
Quite a few years ago, I lived in a neighbourhood the consisted of rednecks and no hopers. Any of my neighbours could have randomly been chosen to go on Jerry Springer and had a successful show. Next door to me I had The Reds*. Across the road, we had a young couple and their baby who rumour had it were actually cousins.(I actually rang family services on them after finding their 10 month old baby outside in a playpen at 7 in the morning in the middle of winter while they slept inside). On the other side of me were the lottery winners. Now in saying that you would think they would at least be half decent. Not quite. They used their lottery money by paying their rent for two years in advance and buying beat up old cars (I am guessing with the intention of doing them up but instead they just sat in the front yard gathering rats and cobwebs) the majority of the money went quite obviously on drugs and alcohol, as they were quite often found passed out on the front lawn by 10am. coincidentally, they were related to the young couple that lived across the road. I chose to call the township Shit town. Besides the obvious reasons, it was also because the sewerage truck used to come once a week and take away waste. It stunk! I tended to try to stay away from the town when the truck was due. But the effluent stench tended to hang around for a few days. So Shit town it was.
As you can imagine, I was not very happy living here. Which was such a shame, because the home I lived in truly was my dream home. A beatiful wooden A-frame with stain glass windows and a painting studio upstairs. Slate tiles in the Bathroom, a gorgeous claw foot bath, a huge kitchen in which I spent many hours cooking and built in bookshelves. I had gorgeous gardens which I rarely enjoyed because the neighbours might see me and come over.
Time for the confession. I was extremely bored and a little intoxicated (ok alot) one night when I hatched a plan to make the neighbourhood a little more interesting. I can't say I was in this alone as I had a couple of friends over who were accomplices. For every household in Shit Town there was an average of 1.5 dogs. All of which barked incessantly and tried to attack my Louie (he was a gorgeous german pointer) when ever I tried to walk him.
So the plan was to water paint a dog on the street. Ok, pretty idiotic in retrospect but it seemed like a good idea under the influence of tequila shots and boredom. We chose a dog we disliked the most (funnily enough The Red's dog) got bright blue paint and painted a bright blue streak down its back. Let me just say it was home made edible paint made out of flour and food colouring and did not harm the dog at all. I was trying to make a fashion statement, not be cruel!
The next morning, while I was nursing a hangover. The neighbourhood was buzzing. Someone had come in and painted the dog! Who could have done such a thing? Did anyone see anything? Mrs Red was at my door gossiping like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, while I was trying to figure out a way to intake nurofen intravenously. Apparently, the couple across the road had seen a suspicious looking car in the street that had slowed down in front of the Reds house'( I bit my tongue, but wanted to say they could have been admiring/ogling-in-disgust the eyesore that was The Red's house)
Later, when I was at the corner shop, I got the "Did you hear?" from the girl at the counter, the guy at the video shop and the old recluse who lived on the corner (she went as far to tell me that I should let my precious Louie sleep inside so he didn't get attacked as well! *love*)
The next weekend, the same friends were over for our weekly game of poker and tequila shots and stupidly, we decided to do it again! This time we hit two dogs with bright yellow paint. On this occasion I took some lamb shanks with me as one of the dogs was a rotty cross. It turned out he was all bark and no bite and actually enjoyed being painted with bright yellow polka dots. We nearly got caught this time. The Red dog started barking excitedly as we snuck past the Red house in our blacks and beanies holding the bucket of yellow paint. Mr Red, turned on the porch light and came outside. We hid the bucket in a big hurry and waved at him. He, smiled and waved back. and then yelled out "oh you guys on the look out for that dog painter too? thanks for your help" Then went back inside!!
The next morning , the owners of the rotty cross and the ugly little foxy bitser were frantically washing yellow paint from their dogs in the front yard and demanding that we start a neighbourhood watch.
The next week the neighbourhood was talking off nothing but the infamous dog painter. "It was obviously kids." "No one from the neighbourhood could have done it."Any visitors to the street were met with evil glares and who are yous? My friends were in hysterics at the ruckus we had caused amongst the Jerry Springer set. I was giggling but felt it couldn't go on forever. We would get caught and quite frankly, the thought of a bunch of hillbillies chasing me with pitchforks and rifles didn't really appeal to me. So I decided, one more weekend and that was that. The target? My gorgeous Louie. I figured if anything was going to take the heat off me, it was painting my own dog.
So I did. Louie had hot pink blotches on his beautiful white and black coat. I must say, he looked gorgeous and wore that pink in a very manly dog way.
The neighbours were horrified for me. Poor Mel! Poor Louie! Mr Red even offered to wash him with the new hose he had picked up at the tip the day before.
The guilt was too much. After weeks of pitiful looks and people sitting on front porches all night waiting for the return of the dog painter, I was beginning to avoid all contact with anyone in the street.
Eventually, I moved. About two years later I ran into one of my Jerry Springer neighbours in the shopping centre. The first thing she said to me was "Remember the dog painter? Who do you think it was?"
The legend of the mysterious dog painter lives on!
*see previous entry on more information of this family.
Quite a few years ago, I lived in a neighbourhood the consisted of rednecks and no hopers. Any of my neighbours could have randomly been chosen to go on Jerry Springer and had a successful show. Next door to me I had The Reds*. Across the road, we had a young couple and their baby who rumour had it were actually cousins.(I actually rang family services on them after finding their 10 month old baby outside in a playpen at 7 in the morning in the middle of winter while they slept inside). On the other side of me were the lottery winners. Now in saying that you would think they would at least be half decent. Not quite. They used their lottery money by paying their rent for two years in advance and buying beat up old cars (I am guessing with the intention of doing them up but instead they just sat in the front yard gathering rats and cobwebs) the majority of the money went quite obviously on drugs and alcohol, as they were quite often found passed out on the front lawn by 10am. coincidentally, they were related to the young couple that lived across the road. I chose to call the township Shit town. Besides the obvious reasons, it was also because the sewerage truck used to come once a week and take away waste. It stunk! I tended to try to stay away from the town when the truck was due. But the effluent stench tended to hang around for a few days. So Shit town it was.
As you can imagine, I was not very happy living here. Which was such a shame, because the home I lived in truly was my dream home. A beatiful wooden A-frame with stain glass windows and a painting studio upstairs. Slate tiles in the Bathroom, a gorgeous claw foot bath, a huge kitchen in which I spent many hours cooking and built in bookshelves. I had gorgeous gardens which I rarely enjoyed because the neighbours might see me and come over.
Time for the confession. I was extremely bored and a little intoxicated (ok alot) one night when I hatched a plan to make the neighbourhood a little more interesting. I can't say I was in this alone as I had a couple of friends over who were accomplices. For every household in Shit Town there was an average of 1.5 dogs. All of which barked incessantly and tried to attack my Louie (he was a gorgeous german pointer) when ever I tried to walk him.
So the plan was to water paint a dog on the street. Ok, pretty idiotic in retrospect but it seemed like a good idea under the influence of tequila shots and boredom. We chose a dog we disliked the most (funnily enough The Red's dog) got bright blue paint and painted a bright blue streak down its back. Let me just say it was home made edible paint made out of flour and food colouring and did not harm the dog at all. I was trying to make a fashion statement, not be cruel!
The next morning, while I was nursing a hangover. The neighbourhood was buzzing. Someone had come in and painted the dog! Who could have done such a thing? Did anyone see anything? Mrs Red was at my door gossiping like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, while I was trying to figure out a way to intake nurofen intravenously. Apparently, the couple across the road had seen a suspicious looking car in the street that had slowed down in front of the Reds house'( I bit my tongue, but wanted to say they could have been admiring/ogling-in-disgust the eyesore that was The Red's house)
Later, when I was at the corner shop, I got the "Did you hear?" from the girl at the counter, the guy at the video shop and the old recluse who lived on the corner (she went as far to tell me that I should let my precious Louie sleep inside so he didn't get attacked as well! *love*)
The next weekend, the same friends were over for our weekly game of poker and tequila shots and stupidly, we decided to do it again! This time we hit two dogs with bright yellow paint. On this occasion I took some lamb shanks with me as one of the dogs was a rotty cross. It turned out he was all bark and no bite and actually enjoyed being painted with bright yellow polka dots. We nearly got caught this time. The Red dog started barking excitedly as we snuck past the Red house in our blacks and beanies holding the bucket of yellow paint. Mr Red, turned on the porch light and came outside. We hid the bucket in a big hurry and waved at him. He, smiled and waved back. and then yelled out "oh you guys on the look out for that dog painter too? thanks for your help" Then went back inside!!
The next morning , the owners of the rotty cross and the ugly little foxy bitser were frantically washing yellow paint from their dogs in the front yard and demanding that we start a neighbourhood watch.
The next week the neighbourhood was talking off nothing but the infamous dog painter. "It was obviously kids." "No one from the neighbourhood could have done it."Any visitors to the street were met with evil glares and who are yous? My friends were in hysterics at the ruckus we had caused amongst the Jerry Springer set. I was giggling but felt it couldn't go on forever. We would get caught and quite frankly, the thought of a bunch of hillbillies chasing me with pitchforks and rifles didn't really appeal to me. So I decided, one more weekend and that was that. The target? My gorgeous Louie. I figured if anything was going to take the heat off me, it was painting my own dog.
So I did. Louie had hot pink blotches on his beautiful white and black coat. I must say, he looked gorgeous and wore that pink in a very manly dog way.
The neighbours were horrified for me. Poor Mel! Poor Louie! Mr Red even offered to wash him with the new hose he had picked up at the tip the day before.
The guilt was too much. After weeks of pitiful looks and people sitting on front porches all night waiting for the return of the dog painter, I was beginning to avoid all contact with anyone in the street.
Eventually, I moved. About two years later I ran into one of my Jerry Springer neighbours in the shopping centre. The first thing she said to me was "Remember the dog painter? Who do you think it was?"
The legend of the mysterious dog painter lives on!
*see previous entry on more information of this family.
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- Steel.