Patches Saves The Day

On Saturday night I got a call from my mom's burglar alarm company. They called to say her alarm was going off and they couldn't get in touch with her so they'd dispatched the police. I asked if I needed to do anything, and they said no. I tried to call my mom but couldn't get her. I immediately called my friend Heather, whose Husband, Marvin was the 2012 Sheriff Deputy of the Year.  I asked Marvin, 2012 Deputy of the Year,  if he had access to the PD scanner to see if anything was going on, but he didn't. Apparently the Sheriff's Department and PD have separate scanners. Marvin, 2012 Deputy of the Year, called me right back and said he'd called the dispatch and told them to step on it. Friends in high places.

The alarm company called back and said the police were requesting a key holder come out to the house. Uh oh. She couldn't give me anymore information. The Husband and I loaded The Boy in the car and headed the 30 minutes to her house. Every opening scene of CSI that I'd ever seen went through my head. What if there was an intruder? What if my mom wasn't okay? I tried to talk myself out of panicking. The alarm company called back and said the back door was "unsecured," which was why they were requesting us to come.

Marvin, 2012 Deputy of the Year, called back and asked if we'd heard anything. I told him the back door was unsecured and we were requested to come. He said that might mean someone had gotten in, and that's why they needed us. Gasp. It was raining, and I was flying down the road to my childhood home, unsure what I would find when I got there. This road brought me home for holidays during college, and took me to the mall when I was in high school. The wipers sang out shish swish, shish swish. The Husband was in the seat beside me, asking if I wanted him to drive. I didn't. The Boy was in the back seat saying "Ha ha ha! Happy How-ween!" over and over again.  We're a little mixed up on the holidays. I told him we were going to check on his Pammie, which he pronounces "Mammie."  He sat in his seat, smiled, and said "Mammie. Mammie. Mammie. Ha ha ha. Happy How-ween."

It occurred to me that my mom might be at her sunday school Christmas party. That was a good sign, because if there was an intruder she wouldn't be hurt. I had The Husband call Heather because her mom is in the same class. "Ha ha ha. Happy how-ween." The cell connection was spotty, but she called back to say she couldn't get in touch with her mom either. I had The Husband check facebook to see if anyone had posted about going to that party. "Ha ha ha. Happy how-ween. Mammie? Mammie?" Yes, we're going to see Pammie.

I flew down my mom's road like I had so many times as a teenager, only this time the urgency was about a possible danger and not a curfew. "Happy how-ween." I saw the police car in the cul-de-sac and pulled up beside it. It was empty so I parked and headed up the driveway. I heard a voice say "you could've parked up here so you didn't have to get the baby out in the rain." Always suspicious, I said "how did you know I have a baby?!" He replied "because I just heard you say 'get the baby' when you got out of the car." Oh. Good one. My mom's car wasn't home. I could hear her dog, Patches, barking inside.

Patches is useless. He is afraid of everything. He's afraid to go outside to pee. He's afraid of bugs. He's afraid of cellphones vibrating.  He doesn't like people. He doesn't get along with other dogs. He can tolerate about 3 minutes of being petted and then he'll jet upstairs to have some alone time. If you leave him outside he'll jump the fence and run away. He gets nervous and chews on his skin, creating hot spots. Between his Prozac and Benedryl he gets 8 pills a day. He spends his days standing in my mom's shower stall. Not kidding.

The officer explained that when he arrived the back door was locked, but ajar. When he went to open it to investigate, Patches jumped up against the door and slammed it shut! The officer couldn't get back in, which is why he called us. He didn't feel like anyone was in the house but wanted to make sure. Not knowing the officer was a good guy, Patches saved the house from a potential burglar! We unlocked the door and looked around the house and didn't see any signs of any intruders. Whew! All was safe and sound. The Boy was excited to be at his Pammie's house, and he pointed to her Christmas tree and said "Mick Mick?", meaning he wanted to see the Mick Mick ornament.  Mick Mick was one of my mom's favorite first grade students in the 70s and she still has an ornament with his picture on it that she gets out every year. 

The Boy was excited about all the action. He ran in circles around Pammie's house. He looked at the officer and said "Mammie?" Obviously the officer didn't know how to respond to my child calling out a slave's name. I said "Yes, we're at Pammie's house." I emphasized the P in Pammie so that he wouldn't think we got our kid to call his grandmother Mammie. Then The Boy said to the officer "Mick Mick?" I'm not sure why the officer wouldn't know the nickname (mickname?) of my mom's first grade student from 40 years ago, or know that an ornament with his picture hangs on her tree, or understand that The Boy wanted him to take him to it. He said "Yeah" in that dismissive way we talk to kids when we don't know what they're saying, and then showed us pictures of his little boy.  We determined that the house was safe, that Patches is a good guard dog, and that we could all go home. We petted Patches and told him good job protecting the place, and we headed out. I'm sure he headed to his shower stall. 

We put pajamas on The Boy and loaded him in the car. We sighed huffs of relief and turned the car toward home, knowing he would fall asleep in a matter of minutes. On the ride home The Boy was apparently too excited to sleep. He recapped our adventure. "Mammie!" Yes we went to Pammie's house. "'Atches?" Yes, Patches saved the day. Next was "Mick Mick!" Yes, we saw Mick Mick. From time to time he'd throw in a "mama" or a "dada" for good measure. He'd been quiet for some time and we thought he'd finally gone to sleep.  Just as we were convinced he was out we heard "Ha ha ha. Happy how-ween!" Happy How-ween indeed.