In 2001, my wife and I sent our female Brittany dog (Amber) to our friend, John Marsman, in Michigan so that she could be bred. Her grandfather was the famous Evansport's Devilish Diver, number 1 Brittany in the country. She was gone for several weeks.
John carefully sent her back to us aboard a commercial aircraft, and I was there to pick her up. I drove home, Amber sitting on the front seat beside me. Julia had missed Amber, so as soon as I returned, I took Amber into the house and upstairs so Julia could see her.
Later that night we brushed our teeth, got ready, turned out the lights and went to bed, like normal.
I was abruptly awakened at 2:00 a.m. with the telephone ringing. Then I heard shouting of lots of voices inside my house! I was a bit at a loss as to what to do, answer the phone or go downstairs. I threw on a pair of jeans and picked up the phone. The female voice on the other end said, "This is the Police Department. Is everything ok?" The shouting is still going on downstairs. Now I heard them yelling, "Police, Police, Police." So, I went down stairs, rounded the corner, and bang. Bright flashlights hit me in the face. I walk forward a few feet and from a different corner, bang. More bright flashlights hit me in the face. Flashlights from straight ahead and from my left.
We were definitely invaded! There was still lots of shouting going on! "Police! Police! Clear! Clear! Show me your hands! Where are the donuts?!?" About 10 cops were in the house. They asked me (very politely) if I would, pretty please, identify myself..I did. I turned on the lights (veeeerrrrry slooooowly). (I'm glad that I had put on my jeans, because I'm so shy. Shirley Temple eye roll.) (Besides, the police all had their pants on, too.)
Apparently, when I had brought Amber in, I left the car running, car door open, and the back door to our house open. My neighbor, who is very aware of our house, became worried and called the police. No. I am absolutely not absent minded. Why do you ask? Hmph.
Now, where was I?
Oh, yeah. The police looked at my id and were skeptically satisfied. They considered the possibility of arresting me, charging me with resisting arrest, flagrant forgetfulness, and giving me a speeding ticket (just because they were low on their quota for the month). But, after shining the flashlight in my eyes a few more times and shouting, "Police" once or twice more for good measure, they left the building like Elvis.
I went back upstairs. Julia had awakened and asked, "Honey, is everything alright?" "Um. Yes, Julia. Why do you ask?" Cricket. Cricket. Cricket. Whew. I ain't admittin' nuthin!
The story really doesn't end there. The next night (Saturday), my friend, Rob F., Julia and I were working on renovating a building. I began telling the story to Rob. Julia remembered none of it and had me tell the story two or three times. She was amazed.
The following day (Sunday), we were eating lunch with my family (lots of us.) Julia began to tell the story in first person! like this, "Two nights ago, I was in bed and phone began to ring in the middle of the night. I woke up, got out of bed and answered the phone. It was the police. Then I went downstairs." I said, "Wait a minute! You didn't even remember this last night until I told you about it! What are you talking about?" Julia paused. Thought about it. Then said, "Well, it could have happened to me."
Her family tells stories by genetic disposition.
I don't.
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