Here I sit, wide awake at my computer at 3:45 a.m. Usually I am deep in slumber at this hour. Why am I up at such an ungodly hour, you ask?
Well, about 45 minutes ago, my dog woke up and started to pace our room. This is fairly odd, because usually she sleeps through the night. However, it has happened on rare occasions in the past when she really needed to go out, so I get up to take her out.
As I come down the stairs, I see the front door resting against the door frame, not wide open, but cracked, if you know what I mean. And, the dead bolt was shot and the doorhandle lock locked. 'The hell? I ask myself. I always lock the front door after taking the dog out for the last time at night, and I damm sure didn’t leave it that way, and Bluesman didn’t go outside at all, and wouldn’t have thrown the deadbolt when the door was in an open position if he had.
After much hemming and hawing I call the MPs, who ask if there is anyone in the house now. No, I say. Is there anything broken or missing? No, not that I know of. Well, call us back if you find anything, they say. Well, great.
So, given my alternative is to go lie in bed imagining crazed killers lurking about my house, I’m here posting.