Nothing will bring you out of blog hiatus faster than unsatisfied rage.

Today at lunch, I trekked home from work (as I do everyday) to walk my dog, Heidi. For the past 3 years, this is what we do: I go to work, she stays in my bathroom until lunch, I walk her to my neighbor’s for an afternoon play date, I pick her up after work, we lounge about watching bad TV until bed. Lather, rinse, and repeat.

Something different happened today. At my door, the following sign greeted me:

I Wish Your Yappy Mutt Would Die

Classy, right? I’m some what shocked because my neighbors are mostly young professionals and the majority own dogs, and I wouldn’t expect this kind of malice from any of them.    And who would wish death on this?

After standing in front of my door feeling sucker punched, I rushed inside to scoop up my happily barking schnauzer (not yapping!) and made a beeline for the management office.

“Sorry,” yawned the office manager, “We can’t really do anything. You don’t know who did it, right?”

I felt stupid asking them to send a mass e-mail requesting that people not leave nasty notes on neighbors’ doors and to instead calmly knock on the door and have an adult conversation, so I had to concede that the authorities would have to sit this one out. I did feel a little better when they told me another resident received a similar note recently.

Heidi and I trudged down the dog path on the way home, our collective spirit broken. Up ahead, we spotted a girl in a white sundress and her floppy little dog– incidentally, my next door neighbor. Heidi desperately wanted to inspect every blade of grass on the way down the path, but I dragged her behind me like luggage as I hauled up the trail to stop my neighbor.  I showed her the note and said, “I know you didn’t leave this, but does she yap? Does she bother you?”

Brandi read the note with furrowed eyebrows, “No, I don’t ever really hear her. She’s so sweet. And I work from home a few days a week. I have no idea what this is about.”

Feeling vindicated, I walked Heidi to her afternoon play date where her doggie god-parents shrieked in indignation and used lots of bad words and threatened a lynch mob. They’re a little emotional.   Tonight, her doggie god-father called and offered to have his friend pose as a double agent and knock on doors asking if anyone else is as annoyed by the “yappy mutt” as he is in the hopes that someone will agree with him and admit to the note.   It’s actually kind of sweet in a vigilante kind of way.

All afternoon, I debated. What do I do about this? Do I knock on doors? Do I install a camera over my door and try to catch someone leaving another note? Do I put up fliers with a general apology? Do I keep the note on my door and add my own passive aggressive response?

Ultimately, I can’t do anything. I don’t know who did this, though I suspect a teenage kid trying to sleep in on his or her summer off. My best guess is that Heidi flipped out when FedEx stopped by today and someone got good and lathered up and felt the need to make me feel as bad as they did.  Every day, I leave Heidi alone for about 3 and a half hours. Every day for the last 3 years. And no complaint until today?  Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Or Germany, if Heidi is telling the story.

So even though I won’t get to snap back at the Heidi-hater, I did entertain myself with a game called, “What I Would Say To You If I Was As Immature as You But I’m Not So Instead I’ll Post It On My Blog Later.” And here you have it- The Top Ten Responses that could have been.

1)  The Seinfeld Reference Response

2) The Righteously Indignant About the Wrong Thing Response

3) The You Just Got Therapized! Response

4) The Sneaky Southern Belle Response

5) The Sarcasm Dripping From My Voice Response

6)  The I Think I Know Who You Are Response

7) The What I Really Wish I Could Say Response

8  ) The Scooby Doo Response

9) The Truly Most Passive Aggressive Response I Can Think Of Response

10) And finally, The Wait Til Your Father Gets Home Response

In all honesty, I feel sort of sick every time I look at this note. It’s scary to think someone that lives close to me would be so hostile and deliberately hurtful. I mean, if you must leave a note on my door, couldn’t you settle for asking me to take care of my yapping dog? Does she have to die for you to feel justice?  I hope this is a teenage punk and not one of my adult neighbors.

And here’s a bonus response… The What I Actually Might Do Response

I leave you with Heidi.

She is confused by the death wishes. She's quite used to Universal Adoration.