Finding the dead pigeon on my balcony was the deciding factor. I realised I didn't really want to live here anymore. It was hunched in the corner like a sulky teenager, with its face to the wall. I yelped and jumped like a girly and ran away, shuddering and going 'Urgh! urgh! urgh!'
I mean, a pigeon - not a sparrow, not a mouse - a huge fucking rat of the air, dead and decomposing on my balcony - why my balcony? There are 5 fucking storeys and countless blocks on this estate, why did it choose to shuffle off this mortal coil on mine? You've got to admit, it's not auspicious. And the hell-hounds barked from 5.00 pm til 10.00 pm yesterday, but the Noise Service closes at 5.00 pm. Then they started up again at 7.00 am, and by the time the noise officer phoned me back it was 10.15 am and they'd stopped 10 minutes ago. I feel a bit dizzy and light-headed and not in the mood for coping with winged vermin.
(By now I'm on first name terms with various people on the housing association out of hours ASBO line, Hackney Environmental Health and the local branch of the RSPCA. I'm developing a nervous twitch and bursting into tears on public transport, never a good sign. STOP THE NOISES!!! JUST MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP! I can only conclude that I was a terrible person in a past life and am receiving just punishment in this one.)
So I did what I always do in a crisis, and rang bad Sarah - 'Why is my life so rubbish? Where is a MAN? Why do I always have to deal with this shit all by myself?' Men, what are they good for but giving you orgasms and getting dead pigeons off your balcony, and why are they never around when you need them? - cowardly, I rang the caretaker's number. A little girl answered 'Pappi! Somebody's calling you on your phone!' Then some Polish. The caretaker comes on. 'Hi, it's Annie at ___ Estate. Are you at work Eric?' 'No, at home.' Okay, sorry.'
Okay, I could deal with this by myself. I can't just leave it there, rotting. So I bravely scoop it up in a bucket and fling it over the balcony into Mr Asbo's garden below.
About horses
2 days ago
13 comments:
Go to a phone box that is out of your borough and call the rspca. Give the dogs their deserved freedom and you your much deserved sanity - it's too much. Enough already. It's so wrong on every level. You spent so long finding a nice place to live and you should be able to enjoy it - not be tortured by it. xx
I know hon - the RSPCA let me down though. They were a bit wet 'we'll have a word and give him some advice, but we can't force him to do anything.' They only mind about cruelty to animals, see, not cruelty to human beings. (Apparently shutting them up for hours to bark and howl and not exercising them enough does not count as cruelty.)
Did you remember to douse it in vinegar?
Poor you. But persevere. I hope going through all the channels will eventually get you some help against the git downstairs. Can't he let the dogs out to scamper around the park on their own if he's too busy being a tosser to take them out himself?
You over-estimate male capabilities. Most of us would get confused and give the pigeon an orgasm by mistake.
The pigeon probably died from burst eardrums caused by the dogs.
Anyhow (told you) - bottom left hand side of this page:
http://www.primrose-london.co.uk/pest-control-stop-barking-c-24_119.html?gclid=CNnd5rWn45cCFQoi3godZXdrDQ&source=googleads
poor Annie - you can ring anytime.
Can you record the barking as evidence. Surely the noise team has an out of hours service for all the after-party people?
BiB, in a way that would be better, as then the RSPCA would be able to confiscate them.
Tim, true.
GSE, I know - I've given all this stuff to him, he's just a fucking moron.
Thanks Sar.
Hi Wee-H. The trouble is when I ring the noise service they take an hour to phone you back, then another hour to get here, by which time the owner's back and they've stopped. The other day I finally managed to get two officers round to hear them - ha!! The other problem is it's Hackney, which is a) very big and b) very fucking noisy and filled with crack houses and illegal warehouse raves. I've got noise competition.
Well, persevere with the noise service. My folks had a similar thing with a cockerell round the corner from them (A fucking cockerell! In Watford!) It made their lives a misery, and they went through the exact same thing. But eventually it got sorted, and now life is back to normal and lovely. So hang in there.
And can't we just do the orgasms bit?
No, I didn't mean the device he puts on the dogs, I mean you buy the device for the neighbours dogs and switch it on yourself when they start barking. It may not work through the floor but it must be worth a try. Or if happens when he's out, nip down and give it a blast through his front door.
A shotgun?
Exactly how fresh was that pigeon?
Shame to waste the ingredients of a good pie.
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