The first episode usually involves the Neighbours’ Noise Level Assessment: A critical period where you determine if you've moved next to a silent film enthusiast or an aspiring drummer with a love for the night shift. You ponder the merits of soundproofing versus the simplicity of earplugs, weighing them like a judge at a talent show. But then, there's the wildcard entry: The local mongrel, a dog with a lineage so mixed, it could represent every breed at the United Nations of Dogs. This four-legged escape artist makes Houdini look like an amateur, somehow defying the laws of physics to sneak into your yard. On day two, this canine concoction, a 'budget bull terrier,' if you will, paid me a visit. It's a dog that prompts a guessing game of its heritage, leaving neighbours to speculate if it's more pit bull than shepherd or more poodle than pointer.
These mongrels are the rebels of the canine world, refusing to be confined by fences or societal expectations of pedigree. They roam with a freedom that we, as humans, can only envy from our neatly fenced-off properties. The owner's plight is real; explaining their pet's genealogy would take longer than the dog's actual lifespan. So, they settle for a simple truth: If it barks within the yard, all is well in the world. It also seems I have traded the natural crow of the rooster for the mechanical beep of the alarm clock as there doesn’t seem to be any roosters around this place. No more the early morning "cock-a-doodle-doo" that acts as a feathery snooze button. Instead, you have the cold, unfeeling digital chirp that, unlike the cockerel, doesn't come with the option for a few more minutes of sleep.
