Bite

I’ve just spent two hours with the maire and a brace of gendarmes in the square having a shouting match with the grandson. He has been encroaching on our property in his eternal building of his garage, which has progressed little in the seven years I’ve been here. There is a wall topped by a fence between our properties and he has cut a large chunk lengthwise from the masonry to extend his border. Who owns this border wall? We do and found a document proving it. I wouldn’t care that much if we lost three or four inches on the boundary, but if he builds there, any flaw and subsequent accident becomes our responsibility. And his construction work is always flawed. So we all shouted for a bit. Actually I largely held my peace, as did the pretty young gendarme in attendance of Gendarme Lala, but he, the maire and the grandson made up for it. The upshot seems to be that he will replace the wall he has cut away. I don’t imagine that our relationship with the grandson will ever be the same – but it never was.
We have some friends down the road with a very large and unintelligent Alsatian. The maire went to pay a visit and the dog bit him, twice. It’s one thing to bite Jehovah’s Witnesses and casual passers by, but biting the maire is as uncool as it gets. Fortunately the dog did not do much damage and apologies have been accepted but the animal will have to watch its step.

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