Lost Dog

I'm reaching a gradual conclusion that Ron is evolving into an unpleasant old man.  It's not the incessant grumbling.  It's not the fact that we had a long argument about getting me a new bedframe - which got into the ludicrious (me: "Would one of your precious normal women consent to sleeping on a bed that goes CRUNCH every night?   Would they find that acceptable?")... more on that later, maybe. 

No, it was the lost dog.  I knew someone's dog had gotten out, because the neighbor dogs signal a "dog" bark.  More of a high-pitched yelpy bark.  Kind of like when Dum-Dum next door sees a car or bicycle.  She yelps at a high pitched note. 

So, last night I heard a high-pitched voice (a woman I think, or an adolescent boy) calling a dog.  I thought, oh, good.  They'll find the dog, and lock it up.  No more barking. 

I don't know if they found it or not, last night.  I slept well, on the bed that goes crunch, and got up around 8.  My trick today is avoiding Ron - making sure I don't get sucked into "helping" him get alcohol.  From what I can figure of these games, if I "assist" in any way then I condone it. 

Tricky when he has all the disabilities, and I help him with those, it's challenging finding the lines.  At any rate, I plan to leave later so I won't see whatever ensues.  He already got a huge attitude when I brought him his clean clothes and hung them up, picking the dirties off the floor. 

So, Ron was out on the porch.  He has a chair and likes to sit out there in mild weather.  I heard the voice calling for the dog, and she walked up and spoke to Ron, asking if he had seen or heard their dog. 

[I heard this, and concluded, the dog was a block over based on the barking.  I would have said so and wished them luck in finding the dog.]

Ron says something along the lines of "Your dog is going to die if you don't lock it up.  If you love your dog, lock it up so it can't get out.  If you had taken better care of the dog it wouldn't have gotten out; it could be lying in the street right now."  A horrified exclamation; and Ron shouted "Lock up your dog" as she left. 

The dog didn't get into our yard.  The dog didn't harm the cat.  Why the hate? 

When Ron came in, he was grumbling loudly about "I'm not going to pay you attention because you didn't lock up your dog". 

I'm not sure, at what point, he became a jerk.  But I think we're there now. 

Most alarming; THIS IS SOBER.