So I’m trotting around the house, having just climbed out of the bathtub in the heat of the afternoon…wads of wet hair cascading around my shoulders, when BING BONNNGGGG!
Somebody at the front door, dammit.
It’s a woman looking for Josie, my neighbor to the north. I explain that she needs to proceed another block onward, ever onward. She looks kinda confused.
I think, ungenerously, pleeeze go away!
Meanwhile, a cop helicopter is circling overhead. And circling. And circling: low and loud.
Now I’m thinking maybe she ought not to walk over there by herself.
But on the other hand, there’s always the possibility that she’s one of the perps the cops are searching for.
Hm.
Oh well. Shortly she decides to wander off. And I decide not to try to stop her: let her go. Hope for the best.
What a place we live in!
*****
Argha. I probably ought to have a bigger dog. Twenty-five pounds the Hound of the Baskervilles does not make.
But y’know…here in my dotage, I don’t wanna have to deal with another dog big enough and powerful enough to drag Tarzan down the street. So…the potential German shepherd will have to find another roommate.
An alternative option would be to move to Sun City. Those mausoleum-like precincts are relatively free of raiding home invaders, thieves, and burglars. One probably doesn’t even need a 90-pound dog out there…hm?
But…but…… I hated living out in Sun City, and I really, really don’t want to move back there. That would be true if my son could live a couple miles down the road (as he does here), but the prospect of being out there all alone makes it spectacularly true. Ugly, dreary, boring place…just not my cuppa tea.
So here we are. Hand me that pistol, if you don’t mind, whilst I see who’s at the door…