Smile, you're on my doorbell camera
That one time I watched my neighbor chase his dog around our front yard.
I average eighteen “security” alerts per day. Between mailmen and squirrels and strong gusts of wind, 98 percent of these alerts can be ignored. The other 2 percent is Abby going home for lunch or getting back from work, which frankly, I can also ignore, but sometimes I don’t so I can tap the microphone button and try to scare her. We have fun.
Anyway, this Tuesday I received an alert notifying me to motion at my front door. It was maybe ten in the morning so an admittedly weird time of day, but I didn’t think much of it. Until less than a minute later when I got another alert. “There is motion at Front Door.”
Then another. And one more.
At this point, I had to look at the footage and see what was happening. I felt obligated to do this. I didn’t want to—didn’t really have the time—but I had to. Mainly because I couldn’t think of a single rational explanation for why someone (or something) would walk back and forth across our front door.
So, I opened the app and I was right. The explanation for what I saw was not rational.
Standing about fifteen feet away from the door straddling the sidewalk that leads up to our porch (which is really more of a stoop, but which I will refer to as a porch from here on out so as to give the appearance of wealth we do not possess) was my neighbor. As he stood bent at the waist with his hands on his hips, my first thought was that he needed medical attention.
But then, he raised a quivering finger, pointed directly at the camera, shouted something, and then pointed at his house. That’s when I realized what was going on. Sitting at my desk, phone in hand, I could just make out something at the bottom of the camera frame that I hadn’t noticed before.
Two pointed ears and the top of a fur-covered head.
If I were making this story up, I’d tell you that my first thought in that moment was one of concern over my neighbor’s ability to regain control of the situation. But that was not my first thought. All I wanted to know was if that dog had pooped on my porch.
That sounds selfish. I hear it too. But really, it reflects the confidence I had in my neighbor. He was going to handle everything just fine.
This, it turns out, was incorrect.
The dog took a few steps toward my neighbor and then bolted to the right and out of frame. My neighbor followed. A few seconds later, the dog cut across the frame to my left. Then my neighbor. A moment later, the same sequence repeated in the opposite direction once more. It was a real-life Scooby-Doo chase scene.
Eventually, both the dog and my neighbor disappeared off the frame to the left (the direction of their house) and never returned. So, I can only assume my neighbor caught his pet. Or they simply moved to a different yard where they’re currently repeating the same song and dance.
I don’t know how it ended for them. And the weirder part is that I will never know. I’ll see my neighbor tomorrow. And I’ll wave and say hello and ask how he’s doing and he’ll say he’s fine and ask the same of me and I’ll say I’m fine, and neither one of us will mention our dogs or our doorbell cameras. Why?
Because we only speak publicly of what we do privately when it makes us seem enviable.
Unless I get home and find poop on my porch. Then, I’m going to have to ask my neighbor if I can borrow his shovel, and when he asks why, I’ll show him.
Thanks for reading this far.
- jd
(Note: If you were forwarded this email by a very neat friend of yours, you can sign up to receive it on the first Friday of every month. Cheers.)
When was the last time you saw something that you couldn’t wait to tell someone else about?
For example, I sent a screenshot of my neighbor chasing his dog to Abby immediately after this encounter. Or, another example. I shared this video in my brothers group text after I watched it three times in a row because we love the funny vids. Or one more example. I found a camouflage golf ball (seriously) the other day that I immediately showed to the group. What a ridiculous color choice for a golf ball.
Anyway, life is more fun when we spend time talking about the things we see. Our observations can be for anyone That’s all.