- Jun 5, 2020
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- Country
- United States
- Faith
- Christian
- Marital Status
- Married
My parents started locking the doors of our house at night because there had been a run of burglaries in the area. My dad also believed that no house should be without a dog because, locks are only so good. I never understood this wisdom until the night our home almost joined the local statistics.
At night we kept our dog Smoky down in the lower hall by the side door. A closed door that latches was between her and the kitchen. There was a swinging door between her's and the remaining downstairs rooms and another latching door between those rooms and the front hall.
That made me wonder, “How does the belief that dogs stop burglars work if dog is stuck behind two latched doors?” Perhaps the burglars had the same assumption. That night when the burglaries struck, they by-passed the side door because they knew a dog was there. They had clearly staked us out!
It was likely shocking for them to meet that same dog growling threateningly as they attempted picking the locks of our front door. They high tailed it out of there and never tried our house again.
We found Smoky in that upstairs entry, tail wagging happily, obviously knowing full well what she'd done. This was the first of only two times that Smokey ever went through a latched doorway the next time though said “burglar” got through.
It was years later as Smoky grew old and her sense of smell left her. My parents were also still locking their doors even after Smoky proved they didn't have to. So anyone out after dark had to have a key.
That one night of the second forced entry, my older brother, coming home late locked out for the night. He knew the window where the cat came in was always unlocked even in winter. Sometimes we bring her in even after the whole house hand been locked for the night. Maybe in retrospect this undermined locking doors, but then again, that is why we had a dog.
So my brother, going to the back of the house, removing the cat perch and put up a ladder he'd pulled from the garage against the house. He climbed this and with only a slight struggle to release the mechanism of the screen he managed to free this up. He carefully lifted the window now, trying to be quiet because he knew we were all asleep. As he finished and stuck his hand in to climb in and ...chomp!
“Smoky!” he shouted breaking his hand free and swatting her. He removed all the grace of his silence in one shout and wounded our faithful guard dog to the core.
Light came on, and my mom stood in the doorway of the kitchen in her bathrobe and curlers when she came to investigate the noise finding him petting our loyal guard dog and apologizing. “Our “burglar” looked up and sheepishly admitted, “I forgot my key.”
At night we kept our dog Smoky down in the lower hall by the side door. A closed door that latches was between her and the kitchen. There was a swinging door between her's and the remaining downstairs rooms and another latching door between those rooms and the front hall.
That made me wonder, “How does the belief that dogs stop burglars work if dog is stuck behind two latched doors?” Perhaps the burglars had the same assumption. That night when the burglaries struck, they by-passed the side door because they knew a dog was there. They had clearly staked us out!
It was likely shocking for them to meet that same dog growling threateningly as they attempted picking the locks of our front door. They high tailed it out of there and never tried our house again.
We found Smoky in that upstairs entry, tail wagging happily, obviously knowing full well what she'd done. This was the first of only two times that Smokey ever went through a latched doorway the next time though said “burglar” got through.
It was years later as Smoky grew old and her sense of smell left her. My parents were also still locking their doors even after Smoky proved they didn't have to. So anyone out after dark had to have a key.
That one night of the second forced entry, my older brother, coming home late locked out for the night. He knew the window where the cat came in was always unlocked even in winter. Sometimes we bring her in even after the whole house hand been locked for the night. Maybe in retrospect this undermined locking doors, but then again, that is why we had a dog.
So my brother, going to the back of the house, removing the cat perch and put up a ladder he'd pulled from the garage against the house. He climbed this and with only a slight struggle to release the mechanism of the screen he managed to free this up. He carefully lifted the window now, trying to be quiet because he knew we were all asleep. As he finished and stuck his hand in to climb in and ...chomp!
“Smoky!” he shouted breaking his hand free and swatting her. He removed all the grace of his silence in one shout and wounded our faithful guard dog to the core.
Light came on, and my mom stood in the doorway of the kitchen in her bathrobe and curlers when she came to investigate the noise finding him petting our loyal guard dog and apologizing. “Our “burglar” looked up and sheepishly admitted, “I forgot my key.”
