There was a murmur in the room.
"That was March," I said. I hadn't meant to speak; Candace hadn't opened the floor. But it came out. "That was in March. A deer ran across the path and he pulled the leash out of my hand. I was ten feet behind him. If you play the rest of the recording you'll see me come into frame. He came back to me in about four seconds."
"Mrs. Kowal," said Candace pleasantly, "you'll have your opportunity to speak in a moment."
"There's no date on that slide."
"The image is offered to establish that the dog has been observed unsupervised on common property," she said, "which is not in dispute. You've just confirmed it yourself." She clicked again. "Now."
The next slide said, in large green letters, PROPOSED REMEDIES.
One: The Board would formally declare the dog residing at 14 Sandpiper Court a nuisance under Section 7.6 of the covenants and prohibit it from all common areas.
Two: The Board would submit a formal complaint to Tamsen County Animal Services under the county's nuisance and dangerous animal ordinance, citing repeated public health violations and "the dog's documented history as a trained attack animal," and requesting the county's assistance in "the dog's removal from the community."
Three: The outstanding fines would be referred to the Association's attorney for collection, and, per Section 4.2, the owner's account would be considered not in good standing.
I sat with that last one for a second. It was such a small, dry line, tucked in at the bottom of the slide like an afterthought. Then I thought: Nominations close September 30. That's nineteen days from now. And I felt something cold settle into the back of my neck that was very different from anger.