Sunday, March 16, 2014


So, just a few minutes ago, a couple hours after Opie and I had gone to bed, someone rang the doorbell.


The dogs, of course, went insane. 

I also went insane because we just don't know that many people here in Oklahoma and the people we do know don't "drop by for a visit" unannounced in the middle of the night.

Opie went down to see what was going on and I crept after him, hovering 
around the back door, 9 and 1 already dialed, fully prepared to flee the the house and run for help.

It is interesting to note that while this dog might look big and brave:

he stayed back with me.  He says he was trying to protect me but I suspect he was also ready to flee for help.  However in his defense, he did provide the occasional frightening bark.

Opie then engaged in a brief discussion with our nocturnal visitor about some chick named Trudy and why she wasn't here and when she had moved etc. "I don't know!" Opie kept saying through the closed door.  "Never heard of her!" and basically shut the door in her face. "I could hardly understand a word she was saying," he told me. "I think she was drunk. That or totally high."

After all this, did the woman leave?


She left her car parked on our driveway then walked up the street, clearly in the middle of a life or death substance induced Trudy recon mission. Which I know because I stood peering out the window like a modern day Mrs. Kravtiz (and if you don't know who Mrs. Kravitz is, please keep that info to your self or Google her or looming birthday is making me feel old enough without other reminders from young whippersnappers about my outdated cultural references)

In any case, after rousing another set of neighbors the woman has, I'm pleased to report, returned for the car and driven out of the neighborhood. And Opie and I have returned to bed (but not until we, at my insistence, turned on the lights in the backyard and made sure there was no one lurking in the darkness).

But that's where Opie and my fundamental difference comes in. "That  was weird," he said and immediately went back to sleep--as I type this, he is snoring away next to me like the very soul of snoring snorapotamus.

I, on the other hand, am replaying the entire plot of The Strangers in my head, have locked us all in the bedroom, am jumping at every sound and  and am waiting for the home invading to begin.

So, here's the question: which one of us is acting irrationally?

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