A firewood rick serves a good barrier. Big ol’ fence is even better. Tom could only afford barbed wire but still thought it might increase property value. Might even keep them from mowing on his side and force the dog away, too.
“Don’t matter if it spoils our friendship,” he told another neighbor. “Ain’t one to be had anyway.”
That woman still rode their zero-turn ten years later, flippin’ Tom the bird and blastin’ rock-and-roll loud as her lungs could project. Didn’t sound near as good as John Rich or some gospel.
She probably even liked those damn Dixie Chicks.