Photo Bomb

When my family goes out of town, my friend R serves as our mail carrier and dog sitter.  When she and her family are away, we return the favor.  We live within five miles of each other, so the 'inconvenience' is minimal. It makes us all feel better that our homes and pets are being cared for by people that we trust.

Over the years, the trust has built to the point that we are family to each other.  We take the extra step to ensure safety and protection - both to family members and belongings.  This is probably because, over the past 14 years, both families' homes have been robbed at least once.  This heightened awareness causes us to take closer looks at unfamiliar people in the area, odd situations...things like that.

Fast forward to tonight.  R and her family are on vacation, so I have been holding down the Crazy Cat Fort. One of the creatures is a slightly insane kitten; the other is an 8 year old tabby that may require anti-psychotics any day.  I took extra time at the CCF tonight, corralling Insanity and allowing Zoloft some time outside.  I finally closed up the house, turned on the alarm and pulled out of the driveway.

I drove approximately 1/8 mile down the road and saw it: a white mini van pulled sharply through a shallow ditch and up a hill off the road.  I slowed down to see if I could help, but saw that the car was empty. I mentally shrugged, thinking, I bet they ran out of gas.

I barely drove around the corner before my brain kicked in with the nagging questions: Why there? Why not in a driveway across the road? It's parked too close to R's house. DANGER! DANGER! 

I quickly turned around in a driveway and drove slowly back towards R's house. License plate! Just write down the plate number! Where's a pen?Where's my paper? My brain was going a million miles an hour. Naturally, I had nothing in the car.  Wait! You have your phone! Just take a picture!

I rounded the bend to the van, slowed and put on my hazard lights.  I pulled out my phone, lifted it - and took a picture of the licence plate....and a crazy looking guy ran out of the woods.  Meth head! DANGER! ACT NATURAL! my brain screamed.  I dropped the phone quickly and smiled my best Southern Smile.  

Y'all okay? I mouthed through the closed, locked window - there was no way I was opening the door for him.  He looked insane.

Bug eyed and slightly manic in appearance, the guy half grinned and gave me a double thumbs up. I smiled warily, trying not to let the panic show.  I started up the road, purposely passing R's house, because I didn't want Crazy Meth Head to get any ideas.  I casually drove to the next road, turned, and drove into a neighborhood.  I slowed, watching him drive past.  

Mentally nodding, I continued a safe distance into the neighborhood before doubling back to head home.  There's no way I wanted  him to know where I lived, either. There's really no way to fully describe how deranged he looked. 

 I hope the cats are okay. I hope the house is safe.  I hope the guy doesn't double back and break into the house. I just know that he was up do no good. WAIT, I thought.  I have the picture of the van - with the licence plate.  If anything happens - to the cats OR the house - I'll turn the picture in to the police!

What if the photo was blurry? Life isn't like NCIS.  Our local police aren't going to be able to afford fancy equipment to figure out a crappy photo of a license plate! Steeling myself for the possibility of another AWFUL Photo by Renn, I clicked on the camera function to check out the damage.

I read the license plate with no issue...and then I saw it. Or him, anyway. Slightly blurry in the top right of the photo, there he stood.  Or crouched, actually.  The Insane Van Guy...with his pants around his ankles, and a look of sheer panic on his face.

I didn't catch a thief; I caught a guy with a stomach bug.   I have the Instagram to prove it.