It’s lovely out. I know I should go for a walk, but I don’t have anyone to walk with and the neighbourhood dogs bark at me if I go along the road, and they scare me. So  here I sit, feeling more and more resentful. Don’t tell me to get a dog. Why would I want a companion who scares me? Do you have any suggestions?

Sincerely,

Trapped in my house

Dear Trapped:

Are the neighbourhood dogs behind a fence? Is the gate locked? Can they jump over it?

You could leave a note tacked to the fence. Not for the dog, silly – only the smartest of them can read – but for the owner, saying their dog scares you. You might suggest the use of a bark-control dog collar that reacts in a way the dog doesn’t like, when it barks. But if that doesn’t work, it might be quite enjoyable to stand there on the road and bark back, long and loud, and flap your arms, and drive him nuts as he jumps against the fence trying to get at you. I’ve heard of people using guns that shoot ping pong balls, or paint guns. I can see how that might add a relish to a neighbourhood stroll …

Dear Gabby:

I have an old garden that some idiot planted with just about every kind of fruit-bearing tree you can imagine and this year it is loaded with everything. I don’t want to pick them and I certainly don’t want to do any storing, preserving, or cooking. Short of having them dug up, what would you suggest? 

Truly yours,

Reluctant orchard owner

Dear Reluctant:

Ah. Do you hate people? If not, you could put an ad in The Shingle, offering to let people into your yard on a couple of afternoons of your choosing, to glean the gifts from heaven which have been bestowed on your ungrateful self. I know that this offer on your part is fraught with the danger of meeting new people and having to associate with some you’d rather not meet, so perhaps you will shun my advice. On the other hand, you just might meet the next love of your life.

Dear Gabby:

I just broke up with my boyfriend. He was cheating on me. I’m not sure if I’m more sad or mad. I’d like to make him suffer but I don’t know what to do. He lives on the other end of the island and I don’t have a car. What would you suggest? 

Yours sincerely,

Heartsore

Dear Sore:

Whatever you do, don’t write to him. He’ll show it around to all his friends and embarrass the hell out of you. Don’t talk about him, either, for the same reason. Besides, it will make him wonder what you’re up to.

Some of us have made an effigy of the person and set it on fire and thrown it into the ocean at midnight. Very satisfying. Repeat as necessary.

For obvious reasons The Flying Shingle tries never to disagree with our Dear Gabby, but unfortunately sometimes we do.