It’s 3:30 Friday morning. I’m wiped. And I’m waiting for the police to arrive at my parents-in-law’s house. Wait, there they are – a knock on the front door.

Hubby is walking our hero through the house and through the whole scare… 3:00 AM, Abby, Hubby’s parents’ German shepherd starts barking downstairs. She is a pretty docile dog in general so barking in the middle of the night means one of two things. 1) She’s got to go potty. Bad. Or, 2) something lurks in the night.

Hubs went with the potty option and pulled himself out of bed and downstairs to let her out. To make quick work of this interruption to our sleep, he sat outside with her while she went. While seated on the back porch, he noticed something that looked oddly like a baseball cap hovering between the two fences separating us from the back-yard neighbors. Assuming this was just a baseball-cap-shaped shadow, he didn’t think much of it. Until it moved.

Because this shadow was backlit he only briefly caught the reflection of eyes in the light when it became obvious that whoever was between the fence was either looking straight at Hubby or in the opposite direction. Hubs was freaked.

Being a dutiful husband, he roused me to full waking consciousness and got on the phone with his Mother and Father who are staying the weekend in Mobile while we dog and house sit. He requested the location of the nearest firearm, just in case. He would call them back with the details.

Gun at the ready, he went to investigate, sort of. He wasn’t going to take matters into his own hands, but he did want to be armed in case something “went down” (oh, how I love the language of the crime drama). He took Abby the dog with him and they didn’t see anyone. Of course, crouching sinister figures are just as reasonable as standing ones, so he didn’t take any chances. He phoned his parents to let them know that he was alive and to fill them in on what prompted his need for the weapon.

At this point I’m sitting on the stairs, elbows on knees, chin on upturned wrists, praying. In the midst of my prayers I hear Hubby relay the story twice, once to Mother, once to Father – who insists that he call the police and report what he saw.

So he dials that unforgettable series of digits, 911 and speaks with the operator. I hear the story a third time. She instructs Hubby to put the safety on the firearm and stay inside, she was dispatching a unit (this language is purely a mixture of my imagination and a CSI-type narration going on in my sleep deprived head) to check things out. She inquired about the dogs, about who was home, about what the strange man looked like, about when all of this happened. She made Hubby laugh. I haven’t the faintest idea what she could have said to make anyone laugh while in the heights of panic mode, but she’s obviously quite good at what she does. Especially for 3:15 in the morning.

Anyway, that leads us to now. The nice policeman has come, inspected, chatted with Hubs, and gone, promising to drive around for a bit to make sure any threat has gone. The doors have been re-dead-bolted. The alarm has been re-set. It’s nearing 4:00 AM. And I am wide awake.

All I’m sayin’ is that we may need to re-prioritize the bills for awhile and invest in that alarm system after all…

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