So... a bit of back story: A while back the pipes burst in the basement floor of my 1920's apartment building. Not so surprising I suppose. Fortunately, I live on the top floor, as every tenant in the basement had to be evicted in order to correct the problem. This involved months of construction, including a plywood obstacle course that corralled the imagination into thinking of pit traps as one stumbled to the laundry room.
June 1st rolls around and yayyyy... the downstairs floor has tenants again. Good for you apartment building!
The problem, however, is that someone has moved in with what I'm pretty sure is a young puppy (or a very soprano dog) who does NOT like being left alone... and is left alone often.
Now, you might be thinking, "But, Kristina, you said that this puppy is on the bottom floor and you live on the top! There's a whole level of suites in between you! You must be crazy."
And to that I reply, "Oh, dear friend, I wish."
My building is beautiful, charming, and quirky... and also full of ancient technology. Instead of bathroom fans to cast out steam (and other such gasly bathroom tendencies), there is a window which leads to a sort of chimney, (which I've labeled thus for lack of knowledge of the correct term). This chimney of bathroom air connects all three floors for our steam (ahem) releasing contentment.
This also connects all three floors with a tunnel of soundly love.
So.. there it is.. it now sounds like there is a puppy constantly yipping and whimpering in my bathroom. And I can't even cuddle the damn thing.
Update: June 7th 2015
Just walked downstairs to the laundry room to find a woman patiently waiting outside her door, trying to train her puppy to be quiet.
Faith in humanity restored. Go great dog owners go!!