When I worked and commuted into London, the train to Victoria passed over a viaduct that looked down on Battersea Dogs Home. As I gawped out of the grafitti scarred train window I often wondered what the local residents thought of living next door to all that constant barking and howling.
Well now I know.
The house that I've rented is located in what is evidently a wealthy district, or sub-division as it is known here. Now, it's either because you're wealthy you like to own a dog but I suspect that being wealthy means having to own a dog to protect your property from burglars and thieves. As a consequence every single property surrounding the one where I'm staying has a dog. Or two. Or three. Sometimes four. And at any one time at least one, if not two or three of these dogs are barking. Not consistently but very, very frequently, including throughout the night. It like a chain reaction. Once one starts they all start as it gets passed around the neighbourhood.
The worst time is from sunrise at around 5:30am up until when I leave the house for work. Instead of the pleasing birdsong of the dawn chorus I have to suffer a cacophony of barking dogs. I'm only two weeks into this project and living here is already driving me crazy.
What I can't understand is I'm the only one who seems to be able to hear it. The locals and the staff at the house were bemused when I asked them if they were bothered by all the barking dogs. "What barking?", they said.
Ah well, only 6 months left to go.
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