Eva accidentally left her door open yesterday and her big dog Walter wandered into the yard. I figured she was home just being casual. Our dogs ignored him and he ignored our dogs. Later Eva was distraught and breathless jumping outside to tell me her house was wide open all day. 

Luckily Walter stood guard, I said. 

We were at the beach. Thank God Walter didn't bite anyone, she said, visibly anxious over all that could have happened. 

Meanwhile two houses away the contents of the drug house is being emptied and sold out on the sidewalk, I said. They got evicted finally. The local scoundrels have grabbed anything that wasn't nailed down to make a buck, even the fridge and stove!

The landlord had it coming.  According to folks who grew up here that house has been a drug house for over 50 years.

I believe it, I said. And took my opportunity to go inside and resume making potato salad. I was glad that we try to take care of each other as neighbors. 

Then I heard a scream. I ran back outside and saw a man in a blue shirt running across Eva's yard, Walter chasing him. I phoned the police.

Did you see him? Eva shouted, pale as a ghost, There was a man in my kitchen closet.

I just called the cops, I said, hearing sirens in the distance. 

Where's Walter? 

He was chasing the man.

Oh my God, she said, holding her head.