Guard dog

I thought about buying a gun for a few seconds this week.

After class on Wednesday I came home to find stacks of Republic Title folders and handouts spread across the living room floor. Chel had to put together 300 folders of goodies to take around to offices of new clients on Thursday and Friday. I helped her a little bit and then headed for bed.

Poor Chel didn’t finish the packets until about 2 a.m., and when she came to bed she whispered that she had stopped some would-be car thieves. As she was finishing up her folder-stuffing, a big silver SUV pulled up in the middle of the street, next to the Mercedes convertible and fancy Caddy that our across-the-street neighbors park in front of their home. Two guys dressed in all black jumped out and started shining flashlights around the expensive cars, running around like they were about to break into them.

Chel grabbed her cell phone and called 911 while she watched the guys from our front window. Apparently the getaway driver saw Chelsea watching them, because he flashed his headlights. His accomplices got the signal, jumped into the SUV, and they sped off before Chel could get their license plate number.

The police came by and checked out the situation, but there wasn’t much they could do.

I was proud of my little Crime Stopper, but nervous at the same time. What if the dudes had had guns? What if they came back again?

Meanwhile, sweet Addy, who barks bloody murder without hesitation at our innocent neighbor Larry and archnemesis Shai the Pomeranian, slept straight through the would-be car heist without even a whimper.

So that got me thinking. Do we need a gun to protect us when our guard dog doesn’t?