There are two farms we love to visit for a romp through the fields. Both are about 15 minutes drive from here, one north, one south.
For the past 7 or 8 weeks, we didn't go to one of them because the last time I was there, a note -- anonymous and typed-- think ransom-style, was stuck under my windshield wiper. I knew who it was from because there was this one woman who would come out every now and again and tell me how this wasn't a dog park and that dogs should really be on leashes since they could get in people's yards.
It's kind of a long (and definitely boring) story of a Mrs. Kravitz type creature (who has absolutely nothing to do all day and believes that because her housing development abuts a public park, that it falls under her jurisdiction) and a rebel with two dogs who likes to go into parks from the backside and doesn't believe they need a leash when there are 1,000+ open acres in front of them (and the leashes are in her bag at the ready should they be called for).
Of course I was in the wrong-- leashes are required, but she was also annoying as hell since nobody but her cared and we were out of sight within minutes.
So, I continued to park on the backside of the farm, let my dogs out and off we went and she would continue to be waiting for me by my car when we'd come back making comments like, "oh you're not from around here" (looking at my license plate) or "you know, dogs off leash can go into people's gardens and make a mess." I would just open the hatch, my perfectly behaved dogs would leap in. I would shut the hatch all the while smiling and nodding at her phony chatter (what she really wanted to say was, "I don't like you parking here* and taking your dogs for walks.) *By the way, totally legal place to park with an entrance sign, etc.
And then I would drive off.
Until that day I came back from the most glorious walk-- we were all in great spirits-- it had been a simply fabulous walk and this threatening note dashed it all. It was so ludicrous, at the time I thought to scan it and share it with you all here-- but then decided, instead, not to feed the fire on any level. Threw away the note and found other (more welcoming) places for us to roam.
You see, she was triggering my buttons. When I read her note that told me how she was going to get the police involved! (exclamation point hers-- and please, really? the police want to walk out into the fields to arrest me for walking my dogs because they have so much extra time on their hands?) my first impulse was to fill her mailbox with dog poop.
Not that I would ever do that, of course-- but I wouldn't mind if someone else wanted to.
But I knew better. I knew that I was fully 50% of this ridiculous exchange and as much as she irritated me beyond measure-- I had to step out of it and see it for what it was. She wanted to uphold the law. I wanted to break the law. Simple as that.
So we didn't go back. Until yesterday.
But this time we parked at the front entrance to the farm--- had a most fabulous walk about-- saw the back entrance and the houses there from a distance. I had let it all go. And that felt good.