Mackenzie woke up around three in the morning the other night with that nasty cold she has. As I was stirring and debating if I should do something, Amy rolled out of bed to the rescue. Soon Mackenzie was calm and Amy was asleep once again. As usual, I remained awake. Not long after this I heard movements downstairs, specifically the kicking of our metal compost can
...a distinct sound...either Taylor or Dylan must be downstairs. Then Murphy, our hero, began to bark. Not her 7 am whiney, "feed me" bark, but a hoarse, "I'm old, yet angry," bark. I looked at the clock--3 something...who kicked the can and why is Murphy mad? Amy's in bed, Mackenzie doesn't ever leave her room at night...strange...I'll make sure the other two aren't sleepwalking...Murphy is still barking...Taylor and Dylan are indeed sleeping...I'm not! Murphy's bark is coming from her sleep area...as I'm struck with "analysis paralysis" she gathers more courage than me and comes out of her room into the main entrance hallway. I assume this means whoever may have been here was now gone. I was feeling about as brave as the "early morning killer ferret" moment Tommy Lockner and I shared shortly after college. I woke Amy and we went downstairs, still not certain someone had intruded. Amy asks, "did you put that chair (that blocks the kitchen door) on the table?" No, but it sure would make it e
asier to leave the house quietly, since it no longer blocks the door. Chills down the spine as the truth is evident...now we're certain...we walk the house. The door by the table no longer has an outside lock...pulled out by force...the good news...our visitor is gone. A phone call to the cops...an aggressive response (police combing the neighborhood...running, shining flashlights in the hedges)...they brought in the sniffer dog about 30 minutes after the first police visit, an hour after our initial phone call...there were at least 2 other attempts in the neighborhood after us. That's strange since this person was scared off by Murphy and had to hear me stumble out of bed...he (she?) must have known we'd call the police, yet they made 2 more attempts on our block...dumb and lucky...they got away.
...a distinct sound...either Taylor or Dylan must be downstairs. Then Murphy, our hero, began to bark. Not her 7 am whiney, "feed me" bark, but a hoarse, "I'm old, yet angry," bark. I looked at the clock--3 something...who kicked the can and why is Murphy mad? Amy's in bed, Mackenzie doesn't ever leave her room at night...strange...I'll make sure the other two aren't sleepwalking...Murphy is still barking...Taylor and Dylan are indeed sleeping...I'm not! Murphy's bark is coming from her sleep area...as I'm struck with "analysis paralysis" she gathers more courage than me and comes out of her room into the main entrance hallway. I assume this means whoever may have been here was now gone. I was feeling about as brave as the "early morning killer ferret" moment Tommy Lockner and I shared shortly after college. I woke Amy and we went downstairs, still not certain someone had intruded. Amy asks, "did you put that chair (that blocks the kitchen door) on the table?" No, but it sure would make it e
asier to leave the house quietly, since it no longer blocks the door. Chills down the spine as the truth is evident...now we're certain...we walk the house. The door by the table no longer has an outside lock...pulled out by force...the good news...our visitor is gone. A phone call to the cops...an aggressive response (police combing the neighborhood...running, shining flashlights in the hedges)...they brought in the sniffer dog about 30 minutes after the first police visit, an hour after our initial phone call...there were at least 2 other attempts in the neighborhood after us. That's strange since this person was scared off by Murphy and had to hear me stumble out of bed...he (she?) must have known we'd call the police, yet they made 2 more attempts on our block...dumb and lucky...they got away.
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