The One Where My Ditchpig Neighbours Try To Burn Down My House

The day before we were scheduled to fly out to Winnipeg to find our new abode, we endured a very nerve-wracking incident, involving the Ditchpigs that live on the other side of our back-yard fence, a flaming propane tank, and our freshly sold house being six feet away from going up in flames along with the neighbour’s fence and their vinyl siding.

This was almost two weeks ago.

Despite the plethora of estimators and insurance personnel that have subsequently visited Chez Ditchpig, the back yard still looks mostly how it did immediately after the fire department arrived to save us from flaming destruction.

Really? In two weeks you can’t pick up the rogue BBQ sauce bottle and take the carnage away?
I am so glad we’re not still trying to sell. Lucky are the people who bought our place.
——
For your reading pleasure, here is my recount of the incident, about 24 hours after it went down:

So.

We’re finishing up dinner.

The Old Man and I are still seated at our dinner table, which overlooks our balcony, the back yard, and Fortress Ditchpig Slum on the other side of the fence. Family Ditchpig were all out in their back yard, preparing to BBQ something crappy.

The Ditchpig house is on a hill. Their yard is lumpy. They are renters, and don’t mow the lawn. The lawn is also lumpy. They have a concrete patio, flush with the lawn. On the patio, they have a canopy that creates sort of a den/shelter while they smoke dope/drink/sit in the nude etc. The BBQ sits on the lumpy grass. Have you seen People Of Walmart site? These people are totally those people.

Anyway.

We’re eating. The Ditchpigs have their BBQ roaring and all vacate the area to go into their hovel. We’re eating. Ditchpigs are in their hovel. Rick and I hear a “clunk” and don’t think anything of it. I start cleaning up the dishes, give my kids Mr. Freezies and I’m about to shoo them to the back yard when I hear Mrs. Ditchpig SCREAMING “OH FUCK! OH! FUCKKKKK! HELP! *SCREAAAAAM* SCREAMMMMM*” I jump up, and there are FLAMES engulfing their lumpy yard. Mr. Ditchpig comes running out “FUCK! THE FUCKING BARBECUE FELL OVER! FIRE! FIRE! CALL 911!”

Flames start shooting UP…towards my house. They’re also shooting towards Mr. Chiuauaman’s house.

Fight or Flight kicks in.

I get up, slam the door to the balcony shut, yank both my kids by the arm with one hand and mow towards the phone with the other. Grab the phone, tell The Old Man to move his ass. I then RUN out the front door lifting 70 lbs of child up in the air with one arm. We sprint across the road where we’re moderately safe, and call 911.

I get 911 on the phone, explain that Fortress Ditchpig is on fire, that their propane BBQ is on fire, and that the flames are now about 10 feet high and leaping towards the fence. 911 dispatches the fire department. Mr. Chiuauaman and his two teenagers join us across the street, along with our other neighbours, BobnMegan, and their three kids.

Within 5 minutes everyone on both our street (and the street behind us) are standing around on the road, waiting for the Fire department. Horrified, we’re watching Fort Ditchpig’s vinyl siding melt and the flames leap onto their canopy-den and lawn chairs. My kids and BobnMegans kids are freaked out, crying. We’re all shaking, and hoping that the propane tank doesn’t start to fly into one of our homes, because we all border the Ditchpig Villa.

Fire Dep’t takes a very long 12 minutes to get to the fire. They put it out, and immediately start their investigation. The Old Man, Creepy Jim and The Chiuauaman all go into all of our back yards together to inspect for damage. I stay out front with my kids and The Chiuauaman’s daughter + assorted gawking neighbors. BobnMegan went home to put their kids to bed. Mercifully, our house is fine. Our grass is fine. The fence is charred on the Ditchpig side of the fence, but looks fine on our side. The siding on their house is melted. $15K estimate for damage. The Ditchpigs don’t have insurance, of course. Here is hoping that their landlord does.

I was so terrified that I was going to be watching my house (that just SOLD yesterday) go up in flames before my eyes. I am very happy that none of the Ditchpigs, their children or their children’s friends were injured, and neither were any of the rest of us suckers that live behind them. I am, however, totally shaken up, and want to hit Mr. Ditchpig in the balls with the charred BBQ canister. If my kids were in the back yard? They could have been killed. Because of careless idjits.

This is the lovely view from my bedroom window:


I’m so glad we paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to be here.

Where can I git me one of those awesome pirate flags for my window?

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10 thoughts on “The One Where My Ditchpig Neighbours Try To Burn Down My House

  1. I can not imagine how terrifying that was. So glad no homes were lost. And I have to ask, are Ditchpigs still renting the house or have they been encouraged to find a new dwelling?

  2. Indeed, the Ditchpigs are still dwelling in their sty. I don’t know if they’ve been asked to remove themselves, but from the looks of things, they’re not going anywhere. They probably told their landlord that it was an accident. Accidents w/ barbecues happen. However, this was due to being morons, not some random act of fate/God/karma.

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  4. Oh. My. Gawd! I bet you’re counting the days til you’re out of there. You should sneak over in the night and put crime scene tape around the barbie. Maybe they haven’t moved it cause it’s evidence.

  5. We were fairly confident that the DitchPigs would be evicted from their hovel, but from the looks of things, they’ve managed to maintain their position as Those People Over There That Everyone Wants To Move Away Soon.

    For anyone not familiar with DitchPig/Ditch Pig as a derogatory term, it’s a western Canadian choice word to describe white trash. Urban Dictionary sort of gets it right, although a Ditch Pig doesn’t have to be female or whoreish.

    http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=ditch%20pig

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  7. All I can think of is that this is an old post and by now it’s a fading memory … oops you have the pictures. I would keep them too, sometimes we don’t remember how narrowly we missed disaster and in the big picture spilling something on a brand new rug is really a non event.
    BTW with a nice lawn that would be a handsome house, damn shame.

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