Are My Tax $ Going to Run DNA on Dog Poop?

Posted on March 22, 2013


     To err is human.   To really screw things up requires a male or two. 

      In previous posts I have mentioned the two chaps who bought the house across the Street from me, which was built by the late Isabelle Malone’s father in about 1900.  Let’s call them Stuart and James, since that is their names, and  I can’t imagine they would have anything to hide or be ashamed of….Since they bought the house they have been diligently upscaling it, somehow remaining gloriously oblivious to the fact that there is a karsk vein of unstable limestone undet that whole area of Levan Street.    This blog has published a great many pictures and posts about the Perpetual Sinkhole that almost swallowed the Cruz’s brand now car about a year ago.    The two chaps missed that whole event.   They spend most of their time at their other homes in Connecticut and  New York City.  They refer to their Ward 9 historic home as “Our little weekend place.” 

           Homes like to be occupied.   Their little weekend place very soon got to appearing neglected and abandoned.   And this winter, while they were wintering in Scotland, indulging in Haggis and Stout, their water froze, rather spectacularly.I promise, I was  infinately sympathetic.   I dug out their driveway when it got iced closed in that one big blizzard.  I checked to make sure  the electricity stayed on and hat their newly-delivered Big Blue Bin was put on the porch.    (Since they bought the house they have never once put out any recycling.)  It was slightly embarrasing working for people who left their lights on 24 hours a day whether they were home or not and who, according to their contractors, tried to escape paying their bills, but hey—its ward 9, we help each other.   In return for my help, they suggested i could park my car in their driveway, during snow emergencies.  Sure saved me a two block sprint to the city lot on snowy days when I had to work.  Should have chosen the sprint, I realize with 50-50 hindsight. 

         This week we had another of our “snow-emergency-when-it-isn’t-snowing events”   The weather was really wicked…when it came time for me to hit the road and hope it didn’t hit me back, I observed a large van  parked on Levan Street, it violation of the snow emergency law.   (There is no exception for contractor vehicles in the law.)   (Maybe there should be?)  Better yet, the van was blocking my car into the driveway.   Even better yet, it was partially in the parking space reserved for persons with mobility challenges and it had no permit to do so.  

         I waited over and hour, and the van didn’t move, so I reluctantly decided to get it towed and went out with my borrowed cell phone and the digicam.   Before I finished documenting the incident on film, a large beligerant man came out of Stuart and James house.   It appeaed he was a worker for Casey and Son’s Floor Sanding, and he had been doing something for an hour in the empty house.   When I told him I was glad I had found him efore the police towed him, he went awesomely postal.   He called James and Stuart and would not let me join the conversation.   He said he was going to leave and not come back, that he had not wanted to do the job anyway.  After he ran out of wind yelling, he drove off and I finally got to leave for work without the time to print my paperwork.   Not surprisingly, I had a call from Stuart and James on my voice mail when I got home.   If you think they apologised for making me late to work and hiring an abusive  scofflaw of a contractor, you don’t know these  Connecticut Yankees.    Large portions of the abusive, threatening and harassing exchange are on my Facebook (under isaacs lei–FB is a little backward too.)   They said I lived in a “glass House”, threatened me with unspecified telephone calls and, of course like all abusers, blamed me.   They also  threatened the operator of the  anima hospice that is housing several dogs I rescued, saying he was “dumping garbage” at my house.   I tried to explane that the “garbage” was generated by my own dogs, but it was a little like talking to a lilac bush, except the lilac looks better.  

         Perhaps not surprisingly, this morning I got an email from Jeanne Tavis, who is apparently still with the Board of Public Works, repeating the accusation that someone was dumping garbage and that “It would stop Monday.”    I do not know how much she coprehended that a Kingston animal rescue was  returning to me poop from my own dogs, and that Alderman Madsen (back when he was still alderman before he got into the pizza business) had been very  adament that the two large aggresive dogs were a public nusance and that I had to pick up the dog manure from my own property, inside of my fence.   (He even put a sign on the  lamp post about it.)  I was (and have been for 6 or 7 years) following his instructions.   I have no idea how Jeanne Tavis is going to ascertain from what dog the  contents of the five or six small white trash bags came from.  

         Stuart and James also mentioned other items left in the trash like baby gates and broken fans.   What they apparently had never noticed is that these items  were for me to take and repair or use if I could.   Apparently they are unaware that the animal rescue and I run summer long  yard sales.     I guess they are not on Freecycle or Craig’s list.   Perhaps needless to say, I have reported the scofflaw contractor.  I have checked to see if they needed a building permit for any of the extensive renovations  they have done to the house.  And I have asked Jeanne Tavis to question where their recycling is going.   I am going to have to deal with a very angry animal rescuer who is going to feel like I have gone back on my word to him.   Fortuneately I have no idea how Jeanne Tavis is going to establish that the  newspaper and excrement in the six bags are not from my dogs.  And I definately wonder if there is not a better use of the taxpayer’s money that following a truck from one Kingstn address to another and inspecting dog crap.   I posted a few months ago about the $60,000 a year enforcement officier who is only bringing in $600 in recycling revenue.  Go look it up in the city budget–it is no longer on the City of Kingston web page, but Google it, it is still on line.   Too bad I have to work that day, I would really like to watch the city employees digging through bags of dog crap to determine where they come from.  I have a bag of potatoes that spoiled, too, I’ll put them on top.



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