It was a peaceful weekend until around midnight Saturday (or Sunday morning). That's when Zelda started growling at the front door. She's a 95 lb rottweiler, and she doesn't get upset very often. Well that's not entirely true. She really hates the dumpster truck, and every time it comes down the alley, she barks and charges the door, defending out house against the evil garbage truck. Twice a week she acts like she could hurt someone. Other than that, she is quiet. So when she was upset about something outside in the middle of the night, I got upset too. I already had all the lights on, inside and out, but I was not about to open the door or blinds to see if someone was out there. If I saw them, then they'd see me too! Why is that hard for a man to understand?
I got the baseball bat, but I had the thought that in order to use a bat on someone, they'd have to be close enough to hurt me, and I put it back in favor of the gun. It's kept in a hard to reach spot, locked up with the key in another hard to find location, really hard, because I still haven't found it. But I had it out nonetheless. Finally the dog settled down and went to sleep, so I returned the gun to its hiding place.
In the morning, the boys called to tell me about catching fish, and I in turn told my husband about the dog flipping out and scaring me enough to feel the need to defend our home. I could feel him rolling his eyes at me through the phone.
Later that evening when they got home, the other kids and I were at church. Brent called to tell me they made it back safely and to let me know what the dog had been growling at. I was hoping for validation. I wanted it to be something not bad enough to give me nightmares, like evidence that someone tried to break in, but something to make it ok that I was ready to resort to deadly force if needed. Oh no, he couldn't even lie to me to make me feel better. In fact, he was quite smug when he told me it was the wooden Halloween decoration on the front door rattling in the wind. And to add insult to injury, here is his facebook status that he couldn't wait to post: "okay, my wife had a police officer talk to her MOPs group at church about personal safety last week. Now she thinks that she needs to leave bright floodlights on outside of our house 24/7, and while I was out of town she almost shot the halloween decorations that she hung on the front door."I blame the dog because she's the only one who heard the wind or the wooden thing scraping the door. But since I never found the right key for the trigger lock, is his assessment really fair?
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