Lemon Rustler

Agh! Full moon loonies have taken to walking around in broad daylight, I caught a woman from up the street walking up and down our private driveway, tweaking, stopping off to rustle some lemons from our tree (with her own stepladder, no less). She's stealing the new lemons. Babies. Some of the big ones from last year too. She hid the old ones in the shrubbery for later. Meyer Lemons don't keep once they're picked. We won't mention her equally crazed chihuahua who was having a pissing contest with the neighbor's cat. Then, she had a long screamfest with the neighbors who were rescuing their own cat. All this while I'm trying to write. My knee is really cranky today. I barreled out the front door. All of us standing in the driveway ready for blood. I told her she needed to leave, she was trespassing. She called Ricky the manager white trash. It got worse from there. This may be Oakland, but don't mess with us, this is our hood. Police enroute. Welcome to hot summer in the gritty city.