Sunday, July 20, 2008

Where the chips may fall

It's been very interesting these past few years to learn how my dear, displaced New Orleanians are dealing with their new environs. I received the following text block (excerpted) from my lovely neighbor Chris who used to live a block away on Kerlerec. She was really excited about moving to Denver after the storm. She felt, in fact, that Denver encompassed the warmth, friendliness, and if not all the cultural comforts of New Orleans, at least a semblance of them. Well, enough of them to live comfortably amongst.

Last week, she received a nasty note from the city of Denver about her little dog Belle. Apparently, Belle and Annie had gotten out in the middle of the day and were discovered barking, uncustomarily, in Chris' yard. Chris was pretty non-plussed by the complaint, knowing that her dogs normally don't bark and that if anyone had a problem with her dog, they should have mentioned it to her. She was simply confused that a neighborwould call the police on her.

So, what follows is Chris' response to the Denver paper, since the complaint was filed anonymously. I guess I'm sharing it with you because Missouri has been a great place to live. For starters, my neighbors would never do anything like this. The city of Columbia, unlike Denver, has been a truly stellar relocation site. In fact, before I received this from Chris, I had spent most of my morning trying on trail running shoes at an outfitter store, repeatedly running around the store making sure the shoes supported my ankles properly. The clerk just smiled patiently the whole time. Columbia's like that. People are good and nice here. They sort of obey four way stop signs. They don't call the police when we build bonfires in the backyard. They don't complain about the rangy, wooly, weedy woodland growing in my front yard.

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