I came home from a party last night around 02:00 hours (2:00 AM).  The dogs and I went out in the back yard so they could relieve themselves, the beasts sniffing at the bushes and lifting their legs on the trees.  It was very dark, and there wasn’t anyone around.

When they were ready, we came back inside and started to settle in for the night.  Except there were strange sounds coming from outside.  Footsteps!  Someone was walking on my roof?

That was what it sounded like.  Thump thump thump.  I could plainly hear a foot coming down.  Left, right.  Left, right.  What the hell?

The dogs were going insane!  I turned off the light so I could see through the windows without being observed myself.

If there wasn’t a fat man up there with brightly wrapped gifts, there was going to be trouble!

So I sat there in the dark, hand on my 9mm, and waited to see what would happen.  The footsteps were slow and intermittent at first, but in a few seconds they became more confident, more sure.  Someone was really tramping around up there.  How the hell did they get up on my roof?  What the hell were they looking for?

Like I mentioned previously, the beasts were really raising the roof (HA!) with their dogsong.

Every time a sound would come down, they would go berserk with a frenzy of barking for a second or so.  Then they’d shut up for another second, listening intently, only to cut loose as soon as another footfall sounded from above.  I was hoping they would scare off whoever was up there, but it actually seemed that they were giving encouragement to my roof walker!  The more they barked, the faster the footsteps sounded.

And then, with a slither and a rush, all of the snow on my roof avalanched off into the yard!

It had warmed up to just above freezing during the day, and it hadn’t gotten too much colder even though the Sun had gone down.  There was about 5 or 6 inches of snow coating the steeply sloped roof, and it decided to let loose all at once.  I suppose my thumping around, opening doors and romping around with the dogs, had started the snow edging towards the drop.

A few hundred pounds of white made the footstep noises as it would shift a fraction of an inch and stop, shift a fraction of an inch and stop.  The dogs helped send it on its way through their terribly loud and explosive complaints, the vibration from the barking knocking on the underside of the roof was just enough to help jar a little loose.

This whole thing had taken a great deal less time than it takes to tell of it.  Twenty-five seconds, half a minute.  I only had time to snap off the lights, and pause for a few seconds to listen and wonder what was going on.

When the snow finished sliding, the sounds of footsteps could no longer be heard.  But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to bother checking it out.  I peered from my darkened windows, carefully looking to see if there was someone struggling to free themselves from the sudden rampart of snow that appeared around my house.

Nothing.  No one.  Stillness.  White.

I put my coat on.  The dogs had not stopped barking since the avalanche, their cries turning plaintive with frustration because they could no longer pinpoint any obvious threat.  When I picked up my hat, their barks became very excited and enthused.  We were going to go chase someone out of our yard!

It pretty much turned out how you would expect from this point.  I carefully examined the roof to make sure that it was free of arboreal intruders, made sure that there were no ladders propped up against the walls, and looked for footprints other than our own in the snow.

Nothing.  All clear.  False alarm!

The dogs were less sanguine, though.  They spent 15 minutes digging in the new drifts, frantically sniffing and pawing through the snow in an effort to reveal whoever had the balls to violate the sanctity of my roof.

It wasn’t until they had become cold, wet, and shivering that they allowed themselves to be called back inside for a well deserved biscuit.

Every single day, I give thanks for the doggie companions who share my life.  Gun and flashlight or no, it would have been a very lonely feeling to step out that door by myself to check out a bump in the night without a few friends to watch my back.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 21st, 2010 at 11:05 am and is filed under Home Security, Self Defense. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.