My next door neighbor owns this unruly little chihuahua named Ruby who apparently thinks my doormat is her tinkle spot. Sigh.

Gladys keeps trying to convince me that Ruby does this because she loves me. But somehow, I’m not buying that. Although I guess it could be worse… I could live 3 doors down where the doorway is apparently her poop drop. I wonder how Ruby feels about them?

I know, I know, you’re probably thinking, “Gross. Why doesn’t she just buy herself a new mat and keep it moving?” But let me ask you this, what’s the point of replacing it if Ruby is just going to strike again?? Huh, Sherlock?

My mom is always advising me, “Mitzi, you’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Fine. So I won’t go over there and shake the fire outta the little monster. (insert pout) But I am gonna need to figure out exactly how to diplomatically explain to my beloved neighbor- ’cause lord knows I love me some nosey Gladys who stays running off to a bingo game leaving behind her kindergarten dropout grandson, trifling 33 year-old son and the zoo of wild animals (she’s got 2 dogs, 3 cats, a snake, mice, birds, fish and a turtle in her tiny 2-bedroom apartment)- that this little habit of Ruby’s is not hot. At all.

Pray for me please.