An Urban Tragedy

Everything happens for a reason, right?

It was mid-morning on January 21, 2021, when The Shrimps and I stumbled upon the horror.

My neighbor, two houses from the 3-story walk-up where I live my largely small life on the second floor, is in the process of killing one of my best friends in broad daylight, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

Hey there! I barked sharply towards a rough, husky man wearing a bright orange safety vest over his matching navy blue workshirt and dungarees.

His head snapped my way.

Witnesses are inconvenient, I predicted he was thinking right now. My God, the nerve.

Without saying a word, though his face was mostly covered with thick, curly facial hair, his hard hat pulled low to his eyebrows, he could not hide the surprise or curiosity behind his now-widening eyes.

Excuse me, but what are you doing? I asked in a semi-casual tone, resisting the powerful urge to grab him and swear straight up in his hairy face.

We’re taking her down, he said as he walked towards me and my two small mutts — my dawgs — my Shrimps — unfazed and oblivious to anything but sniffing out the perimeter for pee-mail and the best place to drop their morning doo-kies.