Evidence My Landlady Is Bi-Polar.

 Dear Tamara,

    I read your email and I understand what you are saying and appreciate you sharing your feelings honestly. The love you display for animals we certainly have in common. It pains me that our domesticated animals are totally dependent on the kindness of people which is few and far between. (I became Linden’s family for the same reason you acquired your additional two dogs.) I appreciate that you care so much for 55 Atlantic Street, your home now. Stephen had the idea to put a warning up sign in the driveway, saying: SLOW DOGS. This will improve safety for the dogs and, maybe, for all of you living there.

I apologize for the estimator on the roof and will make sure that any repair man will be announced in advance, so you don’t feel your privacy imposed upon. I have no clue who is taking your, or our, equipment, but I assure you Mario is not removing any hose or tools. I will instruct him not to park in your parking area. I hope these changes will make both of us feel better about the annoyances you described.

Fondly,

Catherine

 

 

Now you see why I can’t deal with her other than in writing.  She mood swings exactly like this every couple minutes or so when you’re speaking with her.  Gah!  *LOL*  The letter before this one I never sent to her.  I’m not stupid.  It was written in supreme piss-offedness (new word) and as a way for me to vent my frustration.  Although an edited version of that letter was going to be mailed when I found a new place.  Even though I didn’t send it after reading her response to my response to her snotty response to my initial complaints I feel guilty about the letter in the entry before this one.  (extra points if you followed that sentence.)

Unbelievable to me but we have now had 8 responses to our inquiry for a new place to rent.  EIGHT!!  I am shocked.  Really.  Here I’ve been staying here all this time because I was certain no one would rent to me with all the dogs (and the neighborhood is frikken amazing and one I’ve wanted to live in since I was a kid growing up in da ghetto).  Never mind the 2 cats and the giant nasty iguana.  I knew the bird and fishy companion wouldn’t be an issue anywhere because they are caged.  I thought I might be able to get away with the iguana for the same reason, she’s caged.  So I am very pleased that people will look at ME as an individual, are willing to meet me and my dogs BEFORE telling me NO PETS.  Niiice.  We are still going to look at a couple apartments tonight after work.  The first one I pretty much already know I won’t be interested in because of the area.  Sorry, but yes, I am a bit of a snob now when it comes to the area where I will live, especially in the city where I grew up and now live.  I know it may seem silly but I don’t want to feel like I’ve moved backwards, you know?  I like to retain the notion in my head that I’ve moved up in life.  I am also a bit of a snob because I love the look on people’s face when I tell them where I live or they see where I live.  Hee hee.  Especially that first time my sperm donor drove up to me in front of my house.  The look of amazement on his face when he asked me what I was doing there and I replied that I lived there was precious!!!  I love seeing the people who drive by and look with wonder at our house.  And the ones who come over and say, "God, I just love your house!"  And I proudly say, "thank you, me too," and pretend I own it.  (Ted confessed he does the same thing.)  *LOL*  I especially love it when I encounter someone who knew me when I was young.  They always get that look on their faces that say, "wow, you’ve certainly come a long way."  And I have and I don’t want to move back.  No matter how much a month it will save me on rent.  You know?

Speaking of Sheila Monster, or I was before any way.  The usually nasty, hissing, spitting green monster was hanging on the side of her cage yesterday.  I told Brian to open the window that’s in front of her cage and not to turn her heat lamps on because it would be hot enough in the apartment for her without them. 

Back up for a second.  If you’re asking yourself why I don’t care for her, well it’s because since day one she just literally can’t stand me.  It hurt my feelings something terrible when we first got her because I have never had an animal not like me.  *LOL* NEVER.  I’m not kidding, she made me cry a couple times.  In my rescue group I am known as "The Dog Whisperer" because I can get through to the dogs that everyone else has trouble with.  I even have people all over my neighborhood that come to me with dog questions and problems.  All of our "tough cases" were turned over to me and I’ve successfully rehabbed all but the two I still have.  And they are successful rescues for me, because I can literally do anything to either of them and it doesn’t phase them in the least.  But they are untrusting and unwilling to bond with anyone else.  Even Brian.  No, I can’t say that, Evie loves Brian now.  But if given the choice of going with me or staying with Brian, she picks me every time.  And I have no issues with her outside like he does.  She still spooks easily and will run away from him and straight home when that happens.  However, if she’s walking with me and gets spooked, she just hides between my legs and stays glued to my side.  The sole time she ran away from me and home was the time I collapsed outside that November.  Kismet too, he will come with me on a walk but will not walk with Brian at all.  He will stay in the backyard hiding under the cars until Brian comes home with the others.  Kismet’s success lately has been staying with me outside even when others come into the yard.  Before he would hightail it under a car and sit there looking like his world had ended.  Now he will just jump on my lap and burrow himself into my chest when "strangers" are in the yard.

Flash forward to what I was talking about before: Okay, so  he didn’t open the window before he left and I think Sheila was overheating because she was literally slamming stuff around her cage and being very active.  This is highly unusual for her, if you’ve ever had an iguana or been around them you pretty much know that they are pretty lazy creatures who usually just lay in one spot basking all the time.  Not yesterday, she knocked her food dish and basking rock off the ledge…then went to the second ledge and knocked her waterfall over (used to provide necessary humidity in her cage) and she was just moving all over the place.  Hearing all this racket in her area I went out to investigate and that’s when I saw her demolition and she was just hanging there on the side of the cage like, "Help!!!  I need some relief here people."  Okay, so I go over to her cage.  Usually when I even go within a few feet of her enclosure she immediately rears up, her tail goes stiff and into strike mode, her dew flap comes out (very aggressive sign in iguana land) and she hisses and spits at me.  She’s in attack mode.  She does this every night that I turn her lights off.  Every night its the same abuse from her and every night it’s the same thing from me.  Softly talking to her, shushing her and telling her to behave because if it wasn’t for me she’d have been dead long ago.  *giggling*  Now she doesn’t upset me so much, I usually just laugh at her and go about doing what I need to do.  Yesterday she just opened her eyes really wide and stared at me.  So I walked slowly towards her cage and snapped off her lights.  Then I had to move her cage from in front of the window so I could get back there and open the window for her.  I thought once I put my hands on either side of her cage that she’d start throwing her usual temper tantrum with me.  Nope.  My hands were literally inches from her on both side and I was inches from her hanging there.  There she sat though with her belly exposed as I moved her cage to open the window and put her back.  She never even closed her eyes once and wished me away.  *grins*  She didn’t move or anything when I bravely stuck my hand out and touched her toes.  She didn’t react at all.  So I moved down further and stroked her scaly leg a little.  Still no adverse reaction.  So feeling braver still I decided to try to pet her belly through the bars.  And SHE LET ME!!!  In exchange for her being nice to me I misted her off really well and shared my pear with her.  (It was a delicious pear too!)  (Yeah, yeah, I shared the pear with the dogs too who loved it.)  I think I’ve finally won Sheila over.  Not that I am about to ever put my hand inside her cage or attempt to handle her at all.  But still…it’s progress.  I might not have to be abused by her every night when I go to shut her off and give her a final misting.  I think we’ve had her almost 2 years now.  It’s taken long enough don’t ya think?  I’m persistent if anything.

So now…now I am left wondering if I should move right now.  I know, I know, my landlady is a bitch and there are a lot of inconveniences to living here as listed in my previous entry.  But there are a lot of plusses too.  Like having awesome neighbors (except Joe next door).  I will miss Big Gay OCDTed terribly (even if he does occasionally piss me off with the OCD laundry doing and incessant vacuuming).  I won’t be able to watch Lucky and make sure Joe cares for him. 

By moving I lose a really reliable pet sitter and Ted does too.  Good pet sitters are really, really hard to come by.  Especially when you have as many pets as I do.

I also forgot to mention…I.  Absolutely.  Detest.  Moving.  HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT.  I hate packing and I hate hauling my shit to new places.  I don’t mind unpacking and setting up my new place so much.  In fact, I kinda like that part.  But I like laying down roots where I live.  Ever since I got tossed out of the house at 15-years-old I have this need to stay places for long periods of time.  So I really wanted to stay here while we saved to maybe buy our own home.  I was sitting here all weekend trying to figure out a way to come up with the costs of moving and still be able to force Brian into getting his damned teeth fixed later this fall.

And in moving could I be exchanging one pissy landlord for what might turn out to be an even worse one?  Lord knows she’s a pain in the ass, snotty, considers herself higher than anyone else and talks down to people.  (Hell I believe she’d even talk down to God if he ever came to talk with her.)  But at least she doesn’t live on the property and for the most part, I have to admit, she pretty much leaves us alone. 

Meh.  What to do, what to do.  And how do I tell my client I cannot take his cat while he goes to jail???  I am feeling really terrible about this today.  But I just can’t do it.  I really want to and feel as if I should, but I can’t.  Brian has already said NO!  And even though I am a bitch and pretty much do as I please when it comes to these types of things, even I recognize I have to respect his wishes at some point.  I mean, he is my husband, he lives there and he contributes towards their care. In fact, he’s the sole litter box changer in my house because I have an extremely weak stomach and fibbed to him telling him it’s dangerous for women to deal with cat litter.  Shut up.  You can stop laughing now.  He doesn’t know it’s only true when woman are pregnant or trying to become pregnant.  So this time I don’t feel as if I can toss another cat into the equation.  I’m lucky enough to have gotten away with my own 2 cats.  Cats are a dreaded NO NO with my landlady and she specifically told me so when I first rented the place.  *evil grin*  I assured her, while crossing my fingers and toes, that all I had was the one dog when I moved in when in fact I had the one dog and 2 cats.  Oops.  But the way my apartment is situated I knew she’d never see the cats because they are indoor cats and my windows are weird so even if they got into the windows she’d never see it.  The few times she has had to come inside our apartment I have hidden the cats in the bedroom with the dogs.  HA!  I know sneaky…but they’re my beloved kitties.  Sure I didn’t need to replace PC when he passed on, but…but…as I told Brian, I needed a new kitty then.  But after these 2 go, I doubt I’ll get anymore kitties and I sincerely doubt I’ll ever have 4 dogs again.

But with me…one never knows.