The 2:45 a.m. Terrorist

. . . I wake to the sound of what I believe to be someone tearing a whole in our wall. I look at the clock and see that it is 2:45 in the morning. I also realize at that point that my husband is on the ground next to the bed, loading his gun. I ask him what is wrong and he says, "Don't worry, it is probably nothing, but I am going out prepared." Paulie, wakes enough to realize that she has to go out, I grab her and say, "Sorry dear, you will have to wait." What I didn't say was, "Sorry dear, you will have to wait, daddy has to go shoot whoever it is who is trying to break into our house." I decided that regardless of Paulie's lack of intellect, her keen sense of poodle intuition is astute and she would of probably picked up the slight fear in my voice. So to not alarm her, I grabbed her and did what any good mother of a furry animal would do, I shoved her under the covers. Because, of course, as long as you are under the covers, no harm will come to you.

My husband leaves the bedroom with his .40 caliber and maglight in hand, and I wait, listen and try not to imagine the worst. I hear the front door open, I am imagining that Michel is going to use the element of surprise and round the side of the house to catch the perpetrator in the act. It was obvious that the terrorist was in the back. I see the maglight shine into the backyard and scoot further down in the covers and squeeze Paulie just a bit tighter. I lay in wait of any sound that might give clue to what is going on outside. I hear nothing . . . I decide that all must be well outside and begin to breathe again . . . but not too much, just in case. At this point I begin to imagine that at any moment someone was going to bust into our room while Michel is outside. It is at that point that I hear the front door open. I lay in wait, hoping, praying that it is Michel.

Michel quietly comes into the room, I wait for him to let me know what had happened. He does not say a thing. I ask, "So, what was it?" He says, "Well, we have one less raccoon for a neighbor."