...how many did you hear? Those were gunshots, right?
My muffled words from bed sometime in the wee hours this morning. Chad says he counted seven. Three dog night. Three dogs barking. No sirens. I am crushed by dogs and protective husband. He finally spots the broken back window of the SUV across the alley. Tatonka and I fall back asleep. We sleep through the police showing up. Percy helps Chad keep watch.
I still don't feel unsafe here. Which begs the question, is that gene not activated in me or do I believe what I read in the stats and police reports before we decided to buy here and the crimes are predominantly very targeted?
After dog training this morning I got to watch the circus of the news van and building owner arrive from the comfort of my raspberry bushes. The residents of that building are the source of all the drama in our immediate neighborhood.
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