[ Bear + Gus : animals in distress, clearly. ]
Dear neighbors in the apartment below us,
We’re really sorry about Saturday.
As you most definitely know, we have a dog. I’m sure you also know that his name is Gus, since we yell it every 10 minutes when he starts eating something he’s not supposed to. In fact, just this morning he chewed a hole through the side of a shoe, a shoe that he’d previously chewed the lining out of. Apparently he likes to chew through things in stages so I can only assume he’ll be attacking the laces next. But you never know, Gus can surprise you.
Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, Saturday. I should tell you that there were actually two dogs in attendance at our apartment this weekend. Gus of course, and a horse-sized pup named Bear that we were dog sitting. You probably heard us yell Bear’s name a few times but this could have been confusing since my husband and I also call each other “Bear” quite often. Regardless, after attempting to wear Bear and Gus out at the dog park (twice), we thought we could trust them to chill at home for a couple of hours while we attempted to have a social life. Little did we know, we should not have. We’re very sorry that as soon as we left they started barking like the wild animals that they’re not. We’re sorry that the barking was to such an extent that you had to call the management office and tell them that “there is an animal in distress” in our apartment. We’re sorry you could hear it “from your living room and your bathroom”. (PS that’s because we had put one dog in the living room and one dog in the bathroom so kudos on the sound detection skillz.) We’re also sorry that you had to walk down a whole flight of stairs “to see if the dogs could be heard from not just one but two stories down and in fact, they could”. We’re sorry those two mongrels interrupted your Saturday, which I can only assume was super boring though, considering you had all this time on your hands to run around our building and call people. But seriously, we are sorry. It had to be annoying and I’m sure you wanted to punch us in the face a little for making you put up with it for the full 40 minutes that we were gone.
But the truth is that I’m way too embarrassed to apologize in person because if you heard those dogs then who knows what else you’ve heard over the last 13 months? Sometimes I scream at my husband for loading the dishwasher wrong. (So you probably know him by name as well.) And sometimes we sing made up songs together in the morning, loudly. And there are the special occasions when the husband loses a bet and has to let me tickle him for 30 seconds and the noises that come out of him can only be described as Will Ferrel meets zoo animal.
So again, we’re sorry. I guess for not only Saturday, but every day. We’re hoping to buy a house and move out soon. But if you happen to go first and are replaced by someone who is either hearing-impaired or someone who truly enjoys Will Ferrell, we wouldn’t be mad.
Ok, bye.
Apt 608
that's me in the middle 