TALES FROM MY HOOD: Murder!
We reside in a quiet neighbourhood. Lots of trees. Big homes. A midtown oasis but we are not without a lurid tale or two. Naughty people (not naughty puppies) break into homes and steal cars every once and awhile but violent crime is an extreme rarity. Perhaps the greatest act of evil are dogwalkers slipping poop bags into garden waste bags on the curb.
Bob and I occasionally walk by a home (about 11 minutes by foot) with hedges surrounding it. Bob tells me he and Fay were returning from our Godfather’s, (Mr. G), a couple of years ago and they noticed a Toronto Police Services Van with “FORENSICS” written on it.
News gradually filtered out that it was the son of a widower that murdered his father! The son was mentally disturbed Bob said. A few neighbours Bob and Dylan the Westie had met on their walks remarked there were often violent quarrels between son and father. The daughter has recently moved in we are told.
Bob never really engaged with the deceased as he had a German Shepperd and Bob and such dogs do not mix well especially after Dylan and Bob were attacked by another German Shepperd you read about in an earlier chapter.
As Bob says dog walking really has you dialed into the heart of the neighborhood. Occasionally even in Paradise troubling clouds can pass overhead!
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