Neighbor dog

New neighbors have moved in next door. Not replacing the wonderful mad shoveling, beer-making neighbors--they live on the south side. It's the wonderful mad shoveling tomato-growing and raspberry-giving neighbors on the north side who have moved on. They sold their house last week and the new folks moved in that day.

They have a dog. A big dog. A boxer with long legs.

She's young and energetic and her name is Abigail, and she does not like Riley and Boscoe. Nor do they like her.

We have been in this situation before, and it's hell. I am trying to figure out how to fix it. Maybe you have suggestions.

Years ago, a young couple moved in next door to us. They had a smallish pitbullish dog named Jackson. The couple fought constantly--they screamed at each other frequently, and they screamed at Jackson even more frequently.

One day the wife came from work and I heard her shriek, "Jackson, you awful dog! I am going to beat you! Beat you to death!" The back door of their house flew open and Jackson rolled out, ass over teakettle, as though she'd physically thrown him.

Jackson barked at us constantly--even if he was inside his house and we were inside our house. He'd glimpse us through the window and go off.

Riley was just a puppy then--extremely fast and always agitated, and he and Jackson spent a lot of time running up and down the fence barking at each other. I couldn't catch Riley and the neighbors couldn't catch Jackson, and life was hell.

We took to peering furtively out the door to see if Jackson was out before letting the boys in the yard. The neighbors would let Jackson out anyway, and the barking and running would commence.

We were very happy when they moved away, especially because it meant we eventually got happy beer-making neighbors who shovel our walk.

But now we have Abigail to deal with.

Our first thought was to nip this problem in the bud--get Riley, Boscoe and Abigail to become friends so they don't become enemies. Everyone will be happier. Merry, who was selling the house, suggested this to the new owners. She gave them my e-mail address so we could arrange for the dogs to meet on neutral ground.

They did not e-mail me. The dogs did not meet on neutral ground.

I first met Abigail three days ago on my way back from Riley and Boscoe's nightly walk. We unhooked our back gate in the dark and heard roaring and barking and Abigail thundered up to the fence. The boys responded in kind. I dragged them into the house.

I met the owner the next day when Abigail did it again (and believe me, Riley gave as good as he got, he is not a saint here). I suggested we get the dogs to meet across the street in the park. She demurred; it was unclear if she didn't want to, didn't have time to, or didn't think it would matter.

Doug told me not to be impatient. "They're busy; they've only just moved in," he said.

I bought a dog toy for Abigail and left it at their back door with a note. I apologized for Riley and Boscoe's inhospitable behavior, and I suggested that we all get to know each other. Neutral ground. In the park.

A few hours later, I came through the gate again (this time alone) and Abigail once more raced toward me, barking and snapping. The owner seemed at a loss. "She's a rescue dog," she said, as if that explained it. "She didn't used to be this way."

"She's getting more confident," I said. "We need for our dogs to meet on neutral ground." From within the house, I could hear Riley barking like mad.

Again, the owner demurred. Again, I couldn't tell why, but I suspect she just doesn't know very much about dogs. She seemed completely flummoxed by Abigail's behavior.

"I try to peek out and make sure your dogs aren't out before letting her out," she said. But that is not a solution. That is no way to live. I know; I've done it.

"They need to meet on neutral ground," I said again, this time rather desperately. "Otherwise it's going to be hell being in our own back yard." I was starting to feel like a whacko stalker. Come to the park with me, young missy..... Bring ... your.... dog.

She didn't answer me, other than to thank me for the dog toy.

So for now Doug has strung some fencing up about three feet out from the fence that separates our two yards. His thought is that it will keep the dogs from going nose-to-nose, but we both know that Riley can jump that fencing any time he wants to.

My new plan is to work on training Riley. Get him on a leash and make him sit and feed him treats whenever Abigail is in her yard. Of course the fact that it is nearly December and it will be dark and bitter cold makes this less than appealing.

Any other suggestions? Otherwise there's going to be an awful lot of furtive peering into yards from now on ... and an awful lot of barking.