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Butters the brave (not)

My dog is very brave … when there is no danger. 

The other evening, sitting outside reading, a shot could be heard in the distance.  I’m used to these rural sounds.  But evidently it scared Butters as she ran past my wicker chair into the house.

Thanks for leaving me out there trusty friend.

Last night at 10 ish, I heard thudding.  I assumed it was my son church mousing around and hadn’t felt well that day – rolled over and went to sleep.

After midnight something woke me.  I looked at the clock 12:30 am.  My sturdy King sized bed shook as 3 succinct thuds vibrated through the thin walls. 

Butters alerted – but didn’t rise. 

I have long abandoned fear of the dark or of ‘bumps in the night’.  Motherhood has that side effect.  Up I got.

My first stop, Nic’s room.

He lay sleeping, the glow of the television lighting his face. 

Okay.

I checked the side door window – nothing out there.

Purposely avoided the front door, for now, and checked the window from my bathroom at the other end of the home.  Nothing I could see.

Alright – the front door.  I parted the window blinds hoping there would not be a face.  I felt pretty safe – I just dreaded being startled.

Deep breath.

blinds

Peek. 

Nothing.

Hmmm.

I considered getting my knife – but decided against it.  Opened the door for Butters to investigate. 

Butters did not want to go outside. 

This unnerved me more than the noise.  If it was an innocuous source, she would have trotted out there, woofing her bravado.

I closed the door and checked all the locks and did the only thing I could do.  

Went back to bed. 

The mornings are dark.  There was a sensation that something was ‘off’ at 6 am. 

Usual routine is: I get up, use the bathroom, let the dog out, start the coffee, take breakfast in to Nic and make sure he’s awake.  

I did those things and noticed Butters did not go far.  In fact, she didn’t leave the porch. 

Perhaps whatever visited us in the night left its scent – or perhaps she’s just a chicken with a good memory.

I noted the gate was closed.  

I doubt a lurker would politely close my gate. 

I’m hoping the thuds were from some night-time military testing in the mountains.  But three separate thuds in a row?  Odd.

As I waved goodbye to Nic, he said as he stepped off the porch ‘hope I don’t die!’

‘You?’ I answered, ‘You’re leaving the creepy zone.’!

That put a little pep in his step and off he went down the dark road. 

Butters is currently on my bed as I type last nights events – staying safe from the memory of when she wasn’t brave?

Butters Bed1