Million Dollar Babe

In the very, wee hours of the morning (4:30 a.m.), Singer, aka the Babe, my 11 y/o Curly-Coated Retriever, barked and woke me up. Thinking she had to go outside to make a nature call I (very grudgingly) rolled out of bed to let her out. It always irks me when she says one thing then does something else, but once I got up she obviously didn't want to go outside - still, since I was up, and the other girls were creating a ruckus now too, I let them all outside. As I walked back through the house, the doorbell rang, at a time when doorbells should not ring! I hate the adrenaline rush you get when doorbells ring at the wrong time.

I did an immediate about turn and let the girls back in, then went to a window that had a view of the door and there, bent over and peeping in the front door pane, was a shirtless man, that shouldn't have been there. I really hate the adrenaline rush you get when you see shirtless men that shouldn't be there.

My brain left my body at the sight of the man, but somehow I managed to think "shotgun" and I took great comfort in holding it while I dialed 911. The man was gone by the time the police came.

We'll never know what plans the prowler had, if any, but thanks to the Babe, we're safe. Now the other girls were probably helping too, but since Singer barked first and woke me up, she gets the credit. Deacon was in another part of the house so he didn't get to help. He is my second line of defense if anyone gets past the girls.

The Babe - a million dollars. . . sleeping through the night under her watchful eye/ear, priceless.