Yesterday we went for a walk in the desert around the neighborhood with the dogs. We looked at all the cacti in bloom, admired the birds and rabbits, and generally marveled at our good fortune.
Then, as we lay snug in our beds, content in the serenity that comes with living in the middle of nowhere, someone knocked on our door. At 3am. Not an angry knock, a relatively polite knock, but still alarming considering the time of day. Of course I am the only one who hears the knock. Our trusty 7 lb watchdog, whose only useful function is the fact that he barks when someone knocks on the door, did nothing. I think my husband was slightly excited at this opportunity because he got to stride to the door, cock his huge pistol, and defend his property. He says he heard something or someone scurrying away from the door, but that it didn't sound human. We then lay quivering in bed, debating the animal who makes knocking noises vs. deranged axe murder who makes knocking noises. Meanwhile, the cat was busy making every possible "I'm breaking into your house" sound she could think of: thumps, scratching noises like a lock pick, crashing sounds, etc. And Siva, excited by the possibility that we might play with her in the middle of the night, starting throwing things around in the backyard. Every time one of our charming animals did something, we would lie perfectly still, and then analyze the acoustic properties of the sound:
Mia: That sounded like Siva throwing her water dish.
Danny: Or someone shaking the back door. It sounded metallic.
Mia: No, metal is higher pitched. That was a "thunk" like plastic.
And so on. Needless to say we didn't get much sleep. Today, I go to work and talk to one of my co-workers about our early morning adventure. And she says, and I quote:
"Dude! It's the pigs!"
.....huh? Apparently, her tia lives in the neighborhood and she used to think someone was harrassing her in the middle of the night. Turns out the javelina were going up to her front door and crashing into it with their tusks because they don't have good eyesight. As I thought about it, it made sense. Our trash cans are right by the front door, and are overflowing because we haven't been able to get our trash service set up. Danny heard a scurrying, not a running. And Hiccup simply slept through the whole thing, probably exhausted by having to fend off Siva all day.
Our first desert adventure....we're in for some sleepless nights.
Then, as we lay snug in our beds, content in the serenity that comes with living in the middle of nowhere, someone knocked on our door. At 3am. Not an angry knock, a relatively polite knock, but still alarming considering the time of day. Of course I am the only one who hears the knock. Our trusty 7 lb watchdog, whose only useful function is the fact that he barks when someone knocks on the door, did nothing. I think my husband was slightly excited at this opportunity because he got to stride to the door, cock his huge pistol, and defend his property. He says he heard something or someone scurrying away from the door, but that it didn't sound human. We then lay quivering in bed, debating the animal who makes knocking noises vs. deranged axe murder who makes knocking noises. Meanwhile, the cat was busy making every possible "I'm breaking into your house" sound she could think of: thumps, scratching noises like a lock pick, crashing sounds, etc. And Siva, excited by the possibility that we might play with her in the middle of the night, starting throwing things around in the backyard. Every time one of our charming animals did something, we would lie perfectly still, and then analyze the acoustic properties of the sound:
Mia: That sounded like Siva throwing her water dish.
Danny: Or someone shaking the back door. It sounded metallic.
Mia: No, metal is higher pitched. That was a "thunk" like plastic.
And so on. Needless to say we didn't get much sleep. Today, I go to work and talk to one of my co-workers about our early morning adventure. And she says, and I quote:
"Dude! It's the pigs!"
.....huh? Apparently, her tia lives in the neighborhood and she used to think someone was harrassing her in the middle of the night. Turns out the javelina were going up to her front door and crashing into it with their tusks because they don't have good eyesight. As I thought about it, it made sense. Our trash cans are right by the front door, and are overflowing because we haven't been able to get our trash service set up. Danny heard a scurrying, not a running. And Hiccup simply slept through the whole thing, probably exhausted by having to fend off Siva all day.
Our first desert adventure....we're in for some sleepless nights.
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