If the walls had ears.

Well actually we do. Have ears, or no not the ones you would recognize but we do hear. And see and feel.

That last one is less stellar. You really do not want to know how often I have been peed on. By dogs but mostly human males. I lost count. But it is a lot. And then I am one of the lucky ones. A acquaintance of a friend of mine has been peed so much on that his stones are getting loose. So the owner of him had to totally repoint. And trust me, that is a dreadful thing to do to a wall.

If you want to I can go into all the different males that peed on me. And yes we also have eyes, so I could tell you all about all the different dicks. There is some variation to be honest but not as much as the males like to think.

I am glad that walls don’t have taste buds or a sense of smell.

But you probably don’t want to hear about being peed on. Only it happens about 10 to 20 times a night. Friday and Saturday even more. Close to 30 then.

Only ever been one almost week without any pee. That was an awesome time.

Before that I got peed on a lot less. There was a dumpster at the time blocking most of me. But that night someone died in the alley that I am half of. A youngish guy, red head. He came running in to the alley and tried to hide behind the dumpster. The two other guys, older, one bald the other one a grey blond followed him and shot him. Right there and then. And then they ran out the other way.

About five minutes later the police showed up. Blue and red lights all over. And after the one saw the dead guy he pucked on the other side of the dumpster.

Then a bunch of people in white suits showed up and they took away the dead guy and started cleaning me, and the dumpster and my neighbor with those tiny cotton swaps. Kind of tickled.

And the rest of that day I got a lot of flowers and candle’s, so sweet, and those flowers smelled heavenly. Much better than the pee.

And there was a red and white tape keeping people away and a police officer making sure only the people with flowers and candles could get to me.

The third day after the dead guy someone put a plaque on me. That was less, I hate drills and screws, but my neighbor said is was a nice shiny plaque with a name and date on it.

Only after four, five days no more flowers came, the ribbon got removed and the next day the flowers and candles went.  The plaque is now used as target practice by some of the taller human males. Most mis. A few make the bottom edge. And the grey blond guy comes by every year. He first kisses his fingers and then pushes them on the plaque mumbling something about it being business and not personal. Don’t think he knows it is used as target practice. Never saw the bald guy again

Big down side, they also took the dumpster and nobody ever put the dumpster back. So now all the males, dog and human pee on me instead of the dumpster.

I really miss that dumpster.