Neighborhood Hodgepodge

I have more to share in the way of the freak show that is my neighborhood. After the hoarder, the creepy crop-circle man, and the Jamaican juju magic, this time I’ll give you a hodgepodge of stories in one post.

A more appealing view of my neighborhood.

I’m sure you’ve heard about neighborhoods with an elderly woman who has lots of cats. Well, our neighborhood cat dwelling happens to have an older man who feeds feral cats and doesn’t get them fixed. He lives in the corner house on the street behind mine. His yard looks like a jungle, and when we walk the dog, the pungent odor of ammonia-ized cat urine punches us in the face. For years he has allowed the cats to multiply.

The cat jungle.

Animal Services was notified, and we learned that the best they could do was send him a letter telling him to get the cats spay and neutered. Of course, we knew he wouldn’t comply.

I’ll let you in on a secret, but shhh, don’t tell anyone. I sent him an anonymous letter in the snail mail. It said that I was a concerned neighbor worried about the safety of those cats.  The more of them there are, the more likely some will get diseased or injured. In the letter, I also enclosed literature with places where he could have them fixed for next to nothing.

In the past, I counted the ones on and around his property, which came to eighteen. Those were only the cats I could see and/or were nearby at the moment. Lately, I’ve only seen about a half-dozen around his property. I hope that means he’s taking care of the situation.

Continuing with the hodgepodge, did I mention the time I was quietly writing on my laptop one afternoon, when an explosion rocked the neighborhood and shook my house? The dog popped up and ran to the window barking. Soon after, sirens rang into our subdivision. I followed the sound, and on the block west of my home, a house literally exploded. The roof was blown off and the outer walls were charred. I never found out what happened. I only heard that no one was home at the time so no one was injured. That house sat as an empty shell for a few years, until it was replaced with a knew one.

Around the first of this year, before my husband’s accident, he got up to walk the dog on a Sunday morning. He was gone only seconds before he returned home. His eyes were wide. “Come outside. You have to see this.”

I stepped out front to see black smoke billowing into the sky right in front of me. Around the block, about seven houses down from the one that blew up, a house was on fire.

Again, I have no clue how this fire got started, but I heard there was a family of five sleeping when it began. They all got out safe. Below is still what it looks like almost a year later.

Those of you who have read my blog before, may now understand why I talk about wanting to move out of Florida besides the perpetual heat and humidity (job keeps us here).

You might say, “But Lori, maybe you just need to find a better neighborhood.”

I wish that were the case, but no. Too many transients in this state.

Lately, there’s been a putrid smell at a particular intersection where I walk the dog. I’ve been considering reporting it to someone, but don’t know who. This may mean more blog material.

Just when I thought the stories were finished, my neighborhood had a shocking incident that topped all the other stories. Read about it here.