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My neighbors, who you will be sad to know are kind people and thoroughly uncomplainableabout (look it up), last month told me they got a puppy. Lovely! A friend for Fredo! "It's a Basset Hound!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Kill. Me. Now. The most vocal breed imaginable. They howl when they're sad or lonely or happy or hungry or bored or playing. He's already begun, but I know how much worse the howling will get. My pleasant life as I all-too-briefly knew it is completely over. And yeah, I hold it against my neighbors. What were they thinking?

Today this neighbor blew my front-yard leaves to the curb for pickup. Didn't say anything. Just quietly did it.

I don't know how to feel.