Can't tell content of someone's character by beauty of their house

I enjoy living near a golf course. Besides all the places to walk, there’re some beautiful houses in the neighborhood. Our favorite one looks like it was imported from Italy.

I reasoned the couple who resides there was well to do, or had soul crushing financial debt.

Cassandra and I used to admire this house and the people who lived in it. We hoped to be in their position one day.

But our view of them changed the morning Cassandra was walking behind the woman of the house — we’ll give her the pseudonym Jane.

Since we moved into our house a year ago, we’ve noticed piles of dog feces on some of the lawns in the neighborhood. We kept a close eye out, but hadn’t caught the culprit.

Cassandra was out walking one morning when she saw Jane looping around the street with her dog. Cassandra was three driveways back; Jane’s dog was sniffing around a stranger’s lawn.

The dog spun around a couple of times, hunched over, and did its business.

This is a common sight in the neighborhood and no cause for alarm — as long as you pick it up. But Jane didn’t even look around to see if anyone was watching. She kept walking right along and made no effort to pick up the steaming heap.

A couple of days later, Cassandra saw her do the exact same thing yet again.

We found the culprit. It was Jane. Case closed.

According to the Clovis Code of Ordinances Chapter 6.08.050, it’s illegal for a person to allow their animal to “commit any damage or nuisance upon the property of any other person or upon a public street, alley or other public place.”

And while the ordinance doesn’t specifically state dog feces, I consider cleaning up after someone else’s animal to be a nuisance.

But beyond that it illustrates that no matter how nice a person’s house is, or what neighborhood they live in, we know zilch about their character — it’s in the moments when nobody’s watching that our true nature is revealed.

Cassandra and I thought about dropping a bag on her perfectly manicured lawn with a card that read: You forgot something. But we decided against it. Maybe I’m just hoping she’ll read this article.

Kitsana Dounglomchan, an 11-year Air Force veteran, writes about his life and times for Clovis Media Inc. Contact him at:

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