I ran into one of my neighbors while I was out last night. He told me that Ed (the old guy across the street who yelled at his dog) died in the hospital. Talk about being kicked when you're down. Sure, he was old. Sure, he couldn't handle his dog and liked to yell at her, but he was a nice guy when you talked to him.
When I first met Ed, I was cleaning my yard, and he was struggling with a heavy bag. I offered to help him, and he was quite grateful. I ended up hearing about when he was in the Navy as well as about his wife, his previous dogs and more.
People who didn't really know Ed were afraid of him, because he liked to yell, but he was gentle person.
Daisy, his dog, has gone to live with his grandson (which will be better for her. He apparently has more room). It's not clear yet what will be done with Ed's place. I'm hoping the new neighbors will be nice.
Goodbye Ed. Thank you for being so kind when I first moved here.
Oh, and today is the one year anniversary of when the two students tried to "fork" my lawn. No one came by last night (as far as I know).