So, there is a mean old lady living two floors below me.  She'll be "mean" in this story, because previously we had rather good relationships, albeit never really spoke. I knew where she lived, that she had a small cute dog, I held doors to her, said hello, helped to carry anything heavy - that sort of neighbory stuff, but we didn't even know each other's names.

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I have moved to my recent apartment a four years ago and got a dog, and the story takes place about two years ago. Now, early morning one day, someone starts ringing into my door. I try to ignore it - I work nights, so it's my beauty sleep at that time. But they kept ringing, and ringing non-stop, so I shuffled to the door at last, and opened it. It was the mean old lady, and right from the doorstep she starts screaming at me because my dog "made a smelly puddle" in the hallway. I am groggy, and have no idea what she is talking about, but she insists that my dog sh@t on the floor a few floors below. Now, my dog is a very behaved pupper. She cannot and will not do her things anywhere but grass outside, and even when outside - never near the place we live. She'll yell, and bark, and scream if she has something wrong with her stomach, but she'll hold till she'll explode, but not do her business inside. Not only that, she was at the time scared of the new place she was in, so never left my sight when we walked out, so I always see what she's doing, and she didn't do anything in the apartment complex. Which I explain to the woman: she must be mistaken, because she's always in my range of sight, and she cannot really do her business not on the grass.

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The woman, however, insists, and when I ask why does she think it's my dog, she replies "Because you're new here!". Excuse me, lady, I ask, is that a reason enough to claim my dog shat in the apartment building? The fact I'm living here a few years less than you? "Yes." she replies. "Because I know everyone else in here, and no one would do that!". Which is a weak argument, imo. Well, I tell her, she is mistaken - I kept a close eye on my dog, she didn't do it, so it must be something else. She continues to insist, tries to force me to apologise to the neighbours (tough luck - I'm a stubborn sonofabitch), and tries to drag me out to clean after "my dog", saying that everyone does that. Which I refuse because a) i'm in my PJs; b) that was not my fucking dog!

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I go home, lock myself, and go to sleep, only to be woken up a few more times by her for the same reason, but those times I did not open the door - just pressed a pillow over my ears, and slept to my heart's content.

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Soon the landlord came for the pay, and I asked him if the lady is even sane and should I bother about her? He said, no, but just motivated that she's a lonely old woman and a single mother with a forty-something daughter who is obsessed by cats... which is not a reason at all to call a woman crazy! Still, the landlord - spaghetti monster bless him! - likes to get to the root of any conflict I might have with anyone, and after a while he calls me, and tells that he spoke to the lady, they made a sweep of the neighbours, and it appeared that the guy next door was doing some renovations, changing pipes, some mucus and rot spilled out of the pipe he was carrying outside to dispose of, and that was the "smelly puddle". Alright, I think, the woman next time we meet would admit to her mistake and if not apologise, stop giving me The Look she has been ever since. But she did not. She did not apologise, she was continuing giving me The Look, she continued treating me and my dog as if we were the bane of the complex's existence, huffing and puffing, screaming at my dog whenever she approached (after a while the doggo adjusted and tried to be friendly with every person, pupper, or cat in the building), and continuously scolding me for not having her on the leash and muzzled at all times (which is not required for non-fighter breeds over where I live, and my doggo is just a happy, friendly mutt with some collie in her).

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And for some reason i took that to heart. I stopped helping her, stopped holding the door, saying hello (which pisses her off - I hear how she grumbles about "young people having no respect" when i don't greet her), and other common courtesy. I just filter her out. But recently this cold war got to the point when, if I walk home, and see her walking from the store, I will deliberately walk slower, to get into the apartment building with a really nasty, hard-opening door (the magnetic lock misbehaves), to close it right in front of her.

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This all wouldn't have happened were she only to say "sorry", or at least treat me decently. But it seems like the reveal of her being wrong only intensified her dismay, which I decided to mirror back to her. Not a very manly thing to do, I admit, but I am too stubborn to give up (not to mention it is kind of entertaining). Maybe **I** am the asshole?

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**TL;DR:** old lady neighbour claims my dog shat on the floor in the apartment building because I'm a new tennant (her words), and tries to force me to clean up and apologise to the neighbours; later finds out it was another person's fault, but still continues treat me and my dog as if we were ruining the complex; I decide to be petty and start slamming the doors into her face instead of holding them for her, and things like this.