My house was broken into today while I was at work. Sorta.
My daughter and I drove up to the house this evening to find the back door wide open. Obviously, I hadn't left it that way. My daughter's first thought was for the safety of our dog, but the back door opens onto an enclosed sun porch, which in turn opens onto the kitchen via a second, windowed door, and behind that door was Feisty, typically ecstatic to see us.
Goldy | The Stranger
"Get the fuck out of my house!"
From the sun porch are steps leading down to the basement, and it was from there that perpetrators had gained entry by kicking open the basement door, busting the jamb from its frame. But I can just imagine the startled look on their faces after they made their way upstairs, only to be confronted by our sweet snarling Feisty guarding the kitchen. Good dog.
As far as I can tell, they never made it into the rest of the house, and just hightailed it out the back door. Nothing was apparently stolen, though I'll certainly have a repair expense if I ever want to use my basement door as a door again. In the meanwhile, I've sealed it up well enough. And of course we still have Feisty to protect us from any intruders. Good dog.
So, a few thoughts.
1) I'm surprised how calm and unperturbed I was. It's annoying, sure, and a damn inconvenience. But I just proceeded with making dinner and the rest of our evening routine before even bothering to call the police. I know I'm supposed to feel violated or something, but this was a helluva lot less stressful than the time I came home to a burst toilet hose and a flooded house. Perspective, or just the dulling effects of age?
2) Thanks for the speedy service, SPD. I eventually called SPD's non-emergency line around 9:30 p.m., and Officer Bauer was at my door within about ten minutes. Turns out a bunch of houses were hit today in this and nearby neighborhoods. I suspect the perp is Ed Murray and his relentless campaign to instill a false sense of insecurity. Speaking of which...
3) Good Feisty! For years I've engaged in the gun debate by proclaiming my dog Feisty a superior means of home and personal security. And today she earned her keep! On the other hand, had I kept a gun in the house instead of a dog, it might have been stolen. So there.
4) Is it wrong for me to feel embarrassed that my house was such a mess? Honestly, that was one of the first thoughts that went through my head—a twinge of shame that the burglars saw what a crappy housekeeper I am. Seriously, there's something wrong with me.
5) Is it wrong for me to feel disappointed that I have so little of value to steal? No jewelry, no cash, no gold, no silver, no expensive electronics but for the laptop and phone I had with me—almost nothing of easily hockable value. After nine years of devoting myself to the low-paid profession of uncompromising political activism and commentary, nearly everything I own is old and run down. I'm not sure, had the dog not been here to deter them, that the burglars could have even stolen enough to exceed the deductible on my homeowner's insurance. Kinda depressing. And finally...
6) Good Feisty! I'm really loving my dog right now, for obvious reasons. Mixed some carne asada into her kibble tonight, and now it's time to give her a bedtime tummy rub. So good night!