Aiding and Abetting

It’s great living in a country town that still can offer peace, when I come home from a stressful day to finally release all the tension from a hectic job, that near leaves me in a heap, and knowing later through the night, I get a restful sleep. Living in a side street off the main means little traffic flow, with a neighbourhood quite pleasant and neighbours I all know. Kids kick the footy on the road, or swing a cricket bat, and dogs wander up and wag their tail to get a gentle pat. Now our dog Tommy, he’s a ripper; the best we’ve ever had. When someone knocks upon the door he barks like bloody mad, but once our guest has entered, Tommy only wags his tail, and every night outside, Tom sleeps in his kennel without fail. But on the past three nights, there’s been a problem in our yard, with frantic barking and its Tommy, who’s been really on his guard. At three o’clock in dressing gown with torch and waddy I’m prepared, to search for what’s upsetting Tommy, nervous, tense and scared. But I found nothing that is out of place; not a possum or a cat, and with Tommy trotting here beside me, all he wanted was a pat, there’s not a hint of any burglar or of strangers in the night, so I’m back in bed and puzzled, with thoughts on Tommy’s plight. What could it be upsetting Tom, at this time in the morn? A hundred things went through me mind, but all of them withdrawn, so if tonight Tom gets upset I’ll have to try a different ploy, for at this stage I’m at a loss, and I’m not getting any joy. Once again at four o’clock, it’s Tommy barking quite intense. I slowly pull aside a curtain; he’s barking at our neighbour’s fence! Someone is snooping ‘round Jim Bakers yard - I best take a look. So in the shadows I go creeping to flush out this night-time crook. Beneath the pale light of the full moon, I gazed from o’er me fence, and saw a sight of disbelief that did not relate to commonsense. Jim Baker’s picking up and chucking stones, over on my lawn, and without thinking ‘bout his reason I piled on Jim a heap of scorn. ‘What in the hell are you up too?’ I bellowed through the night. Jim flew up like a launching rocket when he got a sudden fright, and Jim’s voice is very shaky when explaining out his plot, for stirring up our little Tommy, by throwing stones onto my lot. To Jim’s whisper I was listening as he muttered out his case, ‘I’m sorry but my ma-in-law is overstaying at our place. She’s upset with Tommy barking and the sleep she goes without, and if Tommy barks again tonight - she’s threatened she’ll move out.’