32/365 More Mysteries

Another neighbor--Bruce and Elaine Friedman live across the street with their kids and their big dumb dog (ahem, it's a lab. All labs, I've decided, are big dumb dogs--I have yet to meet an exception). They have three kids: Casey, Adam, and Kenna. Reform Jews, she's a--rabbi? is that what women are referred to in Judaism when they hold that position?--at a local congregation. I've never had a lot to say to Elaine, but I see Bruce all the time. I'm the block captain and so he's often at my door to give me a "heads up" about something or another. Usually a crime that happened nearby. We have similar opinions of the dunderhead who rehabbed the condo building on the corner. And there's always something going on with his big dumb dog. Other neighbors do not like the dog. It barks, and city living is tightly packed. I never hear it bark, but I'm pretty good at ignoring noises (I have three children). But other folks are highly irritated by this woofing and have called in the Powers That Be to rein it in. Bruce comes over to me and complains about the complainers. But we get along. He is a good neighbor, and while his wife hasn't meshed as well, I know he'd be there if I needed him.

But in his front yard is this statue. It didn't have a head when they put it there. I think it probably did at one time. I don't get it. But, like the tent in the yard behind me (yes, it's still there), I'm not asking questions.