I believe in meeting your neighbours and developing friendships, especially when you are the new kid on the block. When we relocated from Oklahoma to Oregon, we chose a different setting than before. We selected a small acreage where there was plenty of space for kids and a dog to roam. On a Saturday morning our moving van arrived, blocking half of neighborhood road. Shortly after nightfall, we finished the huge job of unloading.

Sunday came and we decided to go for a walk with the family around our property. Having an acreage, we didn’t feel the need to leash our dog as we strolled along. We had never wandered the property prior to purchasing it, so we were truly scouting out the land. Everyone was exploring on their own and all of a sudden I heard this male voice shouting urgently. Looking in the direction of the yelling, just beyond the fence, I could see a man running towards my dog. I did my best to kick into high gear and attempted to sprint uphill! I could see the man pulling something from my yellow labrador’s mouth and clutching it to his chest. When I managed to finally come face to face with this man, he informed me immediately of several facts. First, that my dog, BG, had already killed one of his chickens. Second, his other chicken, which he was hugging, was traumatized and would most likely have to remain indoors for the evening. He then stated strongly that the law in Oregon is that any dog may be shot on sight if he is found killing or wounding livestock or farm animals. He continued to add that once a dog gets a taste of chicken, he will be back for more. Then he asked if I was the neighbor from Oklahoma who was moving in.

Acknowledging that I was indeed the new neighbour from Oklahoma, I then apologized profoundly for my dog’s actions. My mind raced as to what else to say regarding his chickens. Observing his close attachment to his surviving chicken, I knew I couldn’t offer to fry up the dead chicken. Instead, I volunteered to buy him some new chickens or just pay him for the damage done. His body language made it clear that was not an option. He continued reprimanding me and questioning how I was going to contain my dog. I assured him I would build an enclosure and that this would not happen again. He retorted that I had better do so soon. I then awkwardly introduced myself, and asked for his name and phone number.

Fast forward a few days, and I finally feel like I am somewhat organized in my house and should try to improve upon my initial meeting of my neighbour Ed. I deliberate on what I should bake. I choose to make Nanaimo bars, having had rave reviews of them in the past. I drive up to this neighbour’s home, pulling into a long narrow driveway just as the sun sets. I open my door, almost stepping on his ducks while making my way to the front door. After ringing the bell, and then knocking on the door a few times for good measure, I determine no one is home. Looking at the ducks surrounding me, I opt to take my treat with me and try another day. Pulling forward in the circular drive, I find a bus blocking the way. With the sun set and no streetlights on country roads, I am forced to go in reverse along the dark, narrow driveway. I sigh in relief when I am finally near the main road. Just as I am backing down the short, steep slope connecting to the main road, I hear and feel a clunk. I stop and jump out, only to see that I have now just killed this man’s mailbox.  I mean killed, in the sense that the cement base is cracked and his unusually large, navy blue mailbox has a significant dent in one side. (Needless to say, my van incurred damages too.)  Feeling rather exasperated, I continued on home.

Arriving home, I call my neighbour, Ed, to explain what happened. Of course, he didn’t answer the phone. So, I left a message that went something like this,”Ed, this is Lois, your new neighbour, whose dog killed your chicken. I was trying to come over tonight to bring you a treat, to say I was sorry again and to hopefully try once more to meet you under better circumstances. It is with deep regret that I must tell you that I managed to kill your mailbox tonight. Please know that I will pay for a new one to be installed or my hubby, who is quite handy, could come and make the repairs. I do not dare attempt to come over again, for fear of what may die next, so if you would like your homemade treat, please come visit my home or call me.”

The next day my doorbell rang and I opened the door to a lady I had never met. She asked if I was Lois, and when I said yes, she broke out into laugher. After a few attempts, which kept ending in giggles, she managed to introduce herself as Ed’s girlfriend, Sherri. She proceeded to share with me how Ed had replayed my message over and over until he was in tears from laughing so hard. Ed had told everyone in the house that they were not to delete that message. Sherri then made me laugh when she gave me Ed’s conditions of repayment. I was to pay something like seven cents each month for the next few years and then we would be even. Not knowing Sherri and feeling just a little timid, I offered again to just pay for it upfront. Sherri started chuckling once more and told me she was here to let me know that Ed was so impressed with my honesty and prompt confession of the mailbox killing, that otherwise would have gone unexplained, that no payment was needed. However she added, if you still have the treat I will take that. I happily handed over the Nanaimo bars and thanked Sherri for coming over to my house for introductions.

Moral of the story – If at first you don’t succeed, try, and try again! And just so you know, by Christmas of that year, we were left in charge of their house and animals while they went on vacation, and no other animals were killed or injured by my dog. To this day we are still good neighbours.