Gemotions

The dog's barking grated on Arthur's nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. He glared at the animal through the kitchen window, its muddy paws already stained the pristine white of his lawn furniture. He watched the dog sniff at the base of his favorite oak tree, the one he’d spent years nurturing.

He envisioned the neighbor, probably glued to the television, utterly unmoved by the chaos their pet wreaked. Arthur allowed himself a small, bitter smile. They wouldn't even *notice*. The complete and utter disregard for the peace and quiet he craved.

He poured himself a stiff drink. The ice clinked against the glass, a small, defiant sound against the rising tide of annoyance. He thought about calling animal control, but the paperwork…the hassle… he rubbed his temples, a headache already forming.