What's Next?

I am at my wit’s end. With the witch next door. Sunday, at 1:00 the dogs needed to go out. I wasn’t dressed, so I put them out one at a time on the lease that is attached to my back porch. Abby did her business and I brought her in and then I let Roxy out. A few minutes later, when I went to bring her in, the tobacco-chewing, food-frying, chain-smoking scuz of a woman-thing was waiting for me on her back porch, which is three feet away from mine. As I’m calling for Roxy to come in, the literary-challenged, halitosis queen starting yelling at me. Something like, “I thought you were supposed to keep your dogs out of my yard! I’m...” that’s when I slammed my door on her. She was still screaming for a good minute or two after I locked my back door and walked away. I didn’t say one word to her, nor did I even glance in her direction while unleashing Roxy, but honestly, I don’t know how many times I can take this. I KNOW this is my fault for calling her on throwing food in the backyard. If I’d anticipated the stress I would encounter because of that action, I would never have said anything to her. I’m not going to call the landlady, however. Will just wait and see what happens, I guess, but I am not saying another word to the dye-job-gone-wrong, rode-hard-and-put-up-wet, pitiful-excuse-for-a-human-being trouble maker.