Continuing the Asshat Neighbor story . . . Last I left off, Boyfriend and I had gone over to the neighbors house to ask them to quiet the dogs only to be met with disdain and hostility. From the daughter.
The week of Thanksgiving, while I was at work, Boyfriend was fixing a flat on his truck. He had found a screw embedded in his tread. A fairly small screw in thick off-road-tire tread, which he figures couldn't have penetrated his thick tires under "normal" circumstances. No proof, though. He fixed the tire and decided to take his truck for a quick drive to make sure.
According to Boyfriend's Grandma, she watched the neighbor walk down his driveway while Boyfriend was still working on his truck. After Boyfriend left, the neighbor and his son came to the front door. Grandma answered the door and the man introduced himself "John Doe" (he said his first name and refused to give his last name). He told Grandma that he wanted to walk the property line as he wanted to put his horse in the pasture to the side of the house. Grandma told him point blank she did not want him on the property. He rudely told her that we only rent the land the house sits on and that he had permission from our landlord to do so. Grandma asked him to not walk the property until she could confirm permission from the landlord as we, the tenants, had not been informed. The good pastor said he wouldn't wait and proceeded to walk to the pasture.
Grandma got on the phone to the landlord and his rental agent and left messages.
Boyfriend was driving on the main road and at one point while driving on this road you can see our barns and the back of the house. As he's driving back to the house on the main road, he sees two strange men around his old mud truck behind the woodshed. His thought was that Grandma was alone at the house and raced back. He grabbed his 9mm, kept it at his side and as he approached the pasture he recognized the good pastor.
Boyfriend simply said, "What the fuck are you doing on my property?"
The good pastor, making sure he was video-taping the entire thing, replied with, "Look there's (boyfriend's first and last name), brandishing a weapon for no reason."
Boyfriend said, "You're trespassing on my property."
Eventually the good pastor and his son left. Boyfriend went back to the house and Grandma told him what had happened. He put his gun away and went about his business.
A short time later, 4 Sheriff's deputies showed up. The good pastor made sure to watch the entire thing in the middle of the neighborhood street. They frisked Boyfriend and questioned both him and his Grandma. Grandma was pissed that they treated Boyfriend like the criminal when the pastor had been the one breaking the law. The deputies continued to question, Boyfriend and Grandma answered, and the good pastor watching from his ring-side seats.
Finally after much questioning, one of the deputies came out and said, "The good pastor says you shot his dog. Says he saw you do it."
Boyfriend replied, "Dog? I thought all of this was about his damn horse!"
The deputies then said that the pastor had been looking for his dog. Boyfriend told them that he hadn't killed anyone's dog and that the pastor wanted to look, the deputies could escort him around the property. That didn't happen, and the whole thing ended with the deputies talking with the pastor.
Grandma told the deputies she wanted to file a complaint against the pastor for trespassing. They told her it wouldn't be necessary as they had told him he had broken the law and to stay off our property.
Somewhere in all of that, both the landlord and his rental agent had returned Grandma's calls, stating that the good pastor has NEVER had permission to be on the property. In the past he has simply bullied previous tenants into allowing him to put his horse in the pasture. Which his horse has decimated the pasture and there's nothing but dirt in there now. Oh and lots of hose poop. LOTS. And damaged fence, which the good pastor told the landlord he'd repair and obviously has not.
And the story continues with complaints filed and restraining orders.
Oh, the so called dead dog? Still barking.