The story you’re about to read is true. I didn’t change any names to protect the innocent because I don’t know any except for Dearly Beloved, my neighbor, and me. Although we’re innocent, I don’t think there is a need for disguise. At this point, we don’t fear retribution.
I worked outside this afternoon, shoveling up Miss Piggy’s cigar stubs and stuffing them down vole holes. I’m not all sweetness and light, you know. I was thinking, “Eat sh– and die!” with every move. I’m sure they’ll tunnel their way to my rose bed, munching on roots every inch of the way. Such was my frame of mind when I saw a stranger behind the shrubs at the back of our yard.
Brashly, I threw down my shovel and started to give chase, but I was no match for his speed. He ran up the driveway so fast that he’d disappeared by the time I puffed my way to the top. Since my neighbor’s yard is downhill and lined with shrubs, I was betting he’d headed in that direction. The street was too open. I ran behind the neighbors’ house, closing their heavy wrought iron gate behind me in an attempt to corner him. Dearly Beloved had been out for a walk and when he saw me running, he followed to see what was wrong. It’s not often he sees me running.
“Come help me!” I called to him.
I frantically rang my neighbor’s doorbell so she’d know that we had invaded her backyard. She and I stood at her back door trying to decide the best course of action while DB crept around the garage, thinking he could corner the intruder. At that point, two men called from OUR backyard, asking for information. We could see only the tops of their heads, but we didn’t recognize either of them. What was going on?!
“Back here!” DB called.
The fence between the two properties is six feet where they were standing, but drops toward the back. They ran to the lower section and scaled the fence. That was when I saw POLICE stenciled on the back of their black jackets.
Holy crap! This must be one bad ass dude! Wily, too! Even with two cops and DB in pursuit, he managed to elude all three. He squeezed UNDER the gate and dashed up the driveway. Once again, he disappeared immediately. One policeman ran to get their car as the other one raced up the street on foot. He hollered to a woman walking a dog and she pointed to another yard farther up the street.
“HEY. . . !” I called. “Why are you chasing him?”
“Long story!” he yelled back over his shoulder.
What was his crime? Was he captured? I may never know.
The cops had referred to him as “Rat Dog.” Harsh… but then I don’t know what his crime might have been. He’d looked innocent to me. In fact, I’d chased him because I wanted to HELP him.
That collarless, little brown Chihuahua may still be on the loose.