My neighbor let her dog use my lawn as a toilet every morning for six months and never cleaned up once — Kertati I stayed polite until she made one comment I couldn’t forget, and by the next morning I’d taught her a lesson without raising my voice once.

What fertilizer do you use?

Why are your hydrangeas blue?

What is in your soil?

How do yours bloom when mine barely grow?

I answered every question.

She rarely seemed to use the advice.

Still, we got along.

Then Winston arrived.

Winston is an English bulldog.

A large one.

He has the kind of face that makes him look mildly disappointed with the entire world, and my children absolutely adore him.

My six-year-old son Oliver has been campaigning for a bulldog of his own practically since Winston moved in.

Tom also loves him.

He often stands at the kitchen window commenting on Winston’s movements as though he is narrating a wildlife documentary.

I have nothing against Winston.

That part matters.

Winston is a dog.

He goes where his owner takes him.

He does what dogs do.

The problem was never Winston.

It was Marguerite.

The first time Winston relieved himself on the corner of my front lawn, I assumed it was accidental.

Marguerite walked him back to her house without cleaning it up.

I told myself she probably hadn’t noticed.

Or maybe she was in a hurry.

I went outside and cleaned it myself.

The second time, I watched from the window.