On the Things I've Learned From My Neighbors

 

“Good fences make good neighbours,” is a familiar phrase from a poem written by the Scottish poet, Robert Frost, in 1914. I stole the sentiment in an early encounter with my neighbors when I suggested that “Good animals make good neighbors.” It went unheeded.

 

I am of the conviction and belief that everything that happens to me and in my world has a point and purpose. And though sometimes situations may be uncomfortable, difficult, or just plain awful, they are given to me for the opportunity of personal growth and change. That concept has been put to the test repeatedly since I was inadvertently included in “The Great Farm Experiment.” 

The people who moved in next door to me three years ago are not bad. In fact, I am quite sure they are loving parents and want to create an environment for their children where they can thrive. That includes having pets and animals in their world. They are, however--and have been from day one of moving in--terrible animal parents, which translates into being difficult neighbors.

Have you ever observed a couple with a small child and found yourself thinking They apparently didn’t think things through before bringing another being into this world? Inexperience in dealing with basic, daily needs, naivety, and an unrealistic picture of successful child rearing can create some difficult situations aka learning experiences.

That is the picture drawn of my neighbors, except with animals. They wanted an urban farm at their new home. I’m not sure what their thought process was, but it was flawed, perhaps due to lack of knowledge about the basics of raising animals—how to house them and keep them contained, the city’s codes and requirements. Add to that an adamant, stubborn refusal to concede they did not know what they were doing and needed to handle things differently. It was inevitable that the calamity would overflow into my space. How could it not when four rabbits, six or seven chickens, a dozen Muscovy ducks, and four dogs, incorporated on a small city lot, were involved?

Awakening and finding rabbits grazing in my garden or burrowing under my favorite elderberry shrub, chickens making themselves at home as they scoured and stirred up the soil, oblivious of new growth, caused me to question: Why? What is the point? This makes no sense. I do not understand. I was the one to trap the rabbits in a live-bait trap and return them to their owners—repeatedly. It was just a matter of time before they escaped again because the door wasn’t properly latched. I chased the chickens home with a broom, looking like the crazed woman I was, but "free-range" means exactly what it says. I felt like the main character in “Groundhog Day,” who experienced the same day—over and over again.

Prior to this, I held the perception I was quite tolerant and patient. I learned—from firsthand experience—that I was neither. I “flew off the handle” when the animals showed up in my garden. In communicating with their owners, my frustration and anger spilled over like oil pouring out of a cauldron. It isn’t something I am proud of. I’ve said some pretty ugly things to my neighbors. Was I an example of a person of faith, one who represented God well? Hardly.

Another thing I’ve learned is it’s not difficult to be easy-going, friendly, and kind when you’re not under any pressure. Dogs barking throughout the night, interrupting the rest of my duplex neighbor who goes to work early; a dozen ducks being housed adjacent to my fence during the heat of summer, creating the putrid smell of a barnyard; a grandchild visiting next door picking up a rabbit pellet, thinking it was candy…and no cooperation on the part of the owners to acknowledge responsibility or to change. When there is no light at the end of the tunnel, no real hope for an end, the mind can become consumed and irrational.

The repetition of same ol’, same ol’ felt similar to water torture, where one is held stationary while cold water slowly drips…drips…drips onto the scalp, forehead, or face. It’s not a flood of water that drowns, but it is said there is a potential for insanity. Though it is an exaggeration to compare the two, the uncontained and/or improperly contained farm animals, along with the undisciplined, untrained, and uncontrolled dogs “got to me.” I was absorbed mentally and emotionally, a mental head case. My thoughts and conversation were filled by what was happening and my helplessness to bring about any change. I had no peace.

I’ve also learned that I am human. I am real, with reasonable reactions and responses when placed in a difficult situation. My reaction tends to be an immediate knee-jerk one, and I don’t think God even knows which direction I’m going or where I’m going to end up. Even at that, He never judged me or condemned me as I strove to find His will and His way...even--and especially--in this mess.

I am not a confrontational person. Typically, I wait things out and watch for the outcome. Not a single animal situation involving my neighbors has been simple…or easy. Every one required my personal involvement. I was actually pleased I stood up for myself and my duplex neighbors, contacting city officials and others to wield power and authority when our voices weren’t heard and our personal rights were ignored. I learned I did not allow myself to continue being a doormat.

I have spent the past three years dealing with animal issue after animal issue, the most recent one involving sleep—or lack of. “Please do not place your dog in the area outside my bedroom window at night. He barks at all hours and wakes me up, and I’m unable to get back to sleep easily.” Sleep deprivation is a form of torture. 😊 After nine months of their refusal to even respond, I pursued legal action. A letter mandating compliance was sent to them. The issue is resolved—for now.

Hiring a lawyer was never my first choice; it was my last. “It didn’t have to be this way,” I told them. I feel that’s how it is with my Heavenly Father. He is longsuffering, giving us chance upon chance, opportunity after opportunity to face ourselves and the actions and decisions we make. If we ignore Him and don’t give Him the time of day, He’s left with no other choice but to get serious—really serious. “If there was any other way.”

My frustration came to a head after spending three years where every situation was pushed to an either/or, culminating in the “big guns” being brought in from the city or legal system before my neighbors bowed to reason.

I learned I am capable of hate.

I think I hate them, I concluded. I’ve been frustrated, angry, and emotionally distraught, but I didn’t know I had reached a place of hatred. Hate is cold. It is barren. There is no emotion or feeling connected to it. It simply is. That scared me.

This is what I learned. Hatred did not walk in the door, fully clothed, and ready to move in. It developed over time, one frustrating incident after another, and then another. The frustration gave way to anger, then anger gave way to a raw, intense rage. It was like there was an area in my being that collected emotion after emotion, and I never conducted an inner house cleaning. They accumulated, becoming an arsenal of “little things.” Enter—hatred. I’ve never been able to understand how people can hate. Or what that even means or feels like. I do now.

I choose not to hate. Hatred would only poison me, and that would destroy me.

What else have I learned from this situation? I am learning that God is graciously giving me time. Time to keep a distance, to process feelings and emotions, and perhaps…forgive them. As humans, we are all cut from the same cloth, and I need to forgive them as He has forgiven me. 

Maybe, at some point in time, we can have a “good neighbor” relationship, one that does not revolve around animal issues. I would like that. They have twin daughters. I met them when they first moved in, and I showed them a bird nest I found in my garden. But I’m not there yet. I suspect they aren't either.

Learning experiences aren’t necessarily easy, nor are they fun. This one has been a doozy! Who knew chickens, rabbits, ducks, and dogs would be used to bring me to my knees?  But they are important as self-reliance quickly goes out the door and I learn to wait on Him. I hope He gives me a respite before the next batch comes along.