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“It’s entrapment,” Ms. X was obviously upset.

“How can you entrap a dog?”

“What do you mean? I was just getting ready to take the pugs for a walk.  My door was open a crack and I bent down to put the leashes on, and Mr. Y puts his fingers in his mouth and lets out a wallop of a whistle and Freda goes flying down the corridor, and Fanny charges after her.  I figured he wants to play with them cause they’re such sweethearts everyone in the building loves them. Only instead of petting them, he starts snapping pictures.

“Don’t you know dogs have to have leashes?” he says to me sternly when I finally caught up with them.

“But I was putting the leashes on.  You lured them away with your whistle.”

“How could you accuse me of anything like that?” he flashed a demonic grin.  “I got the proof is what I got. See,” he had the chutzpah to shove the photos he’d just taken in my face, which made Freda and Fanny look like wild children.

“That’s not proof, it’s fabrication,” I said to Mr. Y.

“Tell it to the judge,” he turned on his heels and walked away.

I’m telling you this for a reason.  In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a new breed of neighbor emerging in High Rise Society who believes in vigilante justice. Rather than register a complaint via a civil letter, he will take things into his own hands, even creating evidence if necessary to get what he wants

You may logically conclude that the best thing to do is to ignore such behavior.  But do so at your peril because you and your dog may wind up with a stack of  ”evidence”  against you that if left unchallenged may eventually form the basis for a claim that you are Objectionable. (See, How Bad Do You Have to Be?) And that could leave you both on the curb.

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