I finally have a new computer, so I figured now was as good a time as any to fill in some gaps on my blog.
Most recently, I came home from work to find my home had been burglarized. Not a good feeling, to say the least. Since my garage remote has been working intermittently, I have been coming in through my back door. Last Wednesday, having just gotten home from work and receiving some Netflix dvds in the mail, I was looking forward to coming in, kicking back, and watching one of those movies.
When I went to put the key in the lock of my door, I realized the door was not shut all the way. Me being the absent-minded fool I have been of late, am racking my brain thinking, “Oh crap. Did I leave the door open this morning?” I pushed the door open with one fingertip and immediately saw the brass plate from around the door latch laying on the floor. To the right of that, Loki was peering up at me from inside his crate with, what I then took to be a guilty expression. Again, my addled brain is trying to figure out just how in the hell Loki managed to tear up the door from INSIDE his crate. It was less than a second later that I looked up from Loki to see a big blank wall where my darling 56” Samsung DLP HDTV had previously been. This is just too much for my mind to process. Now I’m wondering if, for some unknown reason, perhaps one of my brothers had borrowed my tv for the day. I know, it makes no sense, but these are the thoughts that flashed in my mind that evening.
While talking loudly to myself (and perhaps, subconsciously, to let anyone who might be in my house hear me), I began to walk towards the hallway to inspect the rest of the house. The hall closets are both open and contents are spilling out onto the floor. My guest room door is also open. As I walk past, I glance into my office and find it to be a cluttered mess…although, it looked like that when I left the house that morning!
In the guest room, I see the mattress shoved off the bed, the sheets and comforter pulled back, the closet door open, and items scattered all over the floor. The small 19” tv and dvd player are still there. I have yet to make sense of all of this.
Then I turn towards my bedroom and see every drawer on my dresser pulled open and items pulled out of the drawers in disarray. Here, I also find the mattress shoved off and the bedding pulled back. The light is on in my closet and I turn to take a look. The door is open, my shoe rack that hangs over the door is falling apart, shoes are scattered everywhere. I walk into the closet and find stored purses all over the floor, clothes shoved to the sides of the rods.
It is not until this point that my brain finally clicks and I realize someone has broken into my house! I ran back into the living room and grabbed the phone to call the police. No dial tone. My mind is firing on all cylinders now and I immediately realize, if my Vonage phone line is not working, my computer is probably gone also. So I run back into my office to look more closely. Sure enough, no monitor and no computer.
I ended up calling the police from my cell phone. I held it together just long enough to give them my address and confirm that they were sending someone over. Then I called my parents. By the time Mom answered the phone, I was a babbling, hysterical mess. I had to repeat myself a few times before she was able to make any sense of what I was saying. I think she said she was going to try and get ahold of my brothers that live near me. I hung up the phone with her and walked over to one of my neighbors’ houses to see if they had seen or heard anything. No one answered. So then I called another neighbor that lives a couple of houses down. He came over and said he had not seen or heard anything other than the tree-trimming truck that had been in the alley that morning.
My oldest brother, Dilbert, called about that time. He said he was in Austin, otherwise he would be on his way. But that he had talked to Duckie, who was half-way home from work and turned around and was currently on his way to my house.
A policewoman showed up shortly after that. I had to walk her through the house and explain what was missing, what had been moved, etc. Being the good little crime-show-watching girl that I am, I hadn’t touched anything. Not even a lightswitch to turn on the lights (I later learned that they are rarely able to get a good print off a lightswitch). My house was such a cluttered mess already, it was a little embarrassing to have to explain that, “Oh, no, that pile of clothes was already there on the floor.” But, we got through it.
I explained to her about the Asplundh truck that had been sitting behind my house that morning. And how I thought it was odd that they were just sitting there for at least 30 minutes not doing anything. And that I had to wave them down to ask them to move so I could get out of my driveway to go to work. I also explained that I NEVER leave Loki inside in his crate. Normally he’s in the backyard, but on this particular day, when I was about to leave for work, Loki went and laid down in his crate. I didn’t have time to argue, so I figured he wanted to stay in, so I let him.
The forensics person and my brother were now both en route…Stay tuned for: It’s nothing like you see on tv.