Burglars Bite

Our next-door neighbors were gone this past week, so Thursday about midnight, I go over to let out their dog. While Lucky goes winkle, I notice over at Turk's, the adjacent neighbor's, a bicycle lying on the driveway behind his pickup truck. Then I see a flashlight moving around inside the truck, the light revealing a figure wearing a stocking cap. I calmly collect the dog, deposit him inside, and return to my house to call 911. This done, I retrieve ye trusty ol' attitude adjuster (pictured), and wander back toward Turk's. Of course, at this point, the hamburglar has vanished. I alert Turk to the evident break-in, and he finds that his truck has been ransacked. Fortunately, there was little of value in it to begin with, and all that appears missing is a handful of change.

With commendable response time (about three minutes), the police arrive on the scene, take my witness report, and go about the neighborhood searching for a burglar on a bicycle. As the officer said, no doubt some brainless crackhead trying to scrape up enough cash to get another fix.

When I head back home, the missus has the camera out, snapping away, and takes a shot of the frustrated hunter.

Oh, I do dislike burglars. I dislike them intensely. Of course, I can only use the attitude adjuster if I feel threatened, but then I'm sensitive that way.