The other day, from out in the backyard, my dog began to bark as if she’d just spotted a team of squirrel ninjas making off with her supper bowl. As I am fearless, I charged out into the backyard to do battle with whatever forces might await me. You see, our upstairs neighbour had just recently been robbed, and ever since, I have taken on a sort of unofficial role of “apartment security guard.” (Rachelle has promised to sew a nametag onto my housecoat.)
At any rate, as I was standing out in the backyard with my 7 iron, an East Indian policeman emerged from one of the doors behind me, the one that leads down to the laundry room. Fearful of the barking dog, he had closed himself off into the stairwell, and seeing that I had come out and picked up the dog, felt confident enough to emerge from his hiding spot. He played it cool, like he wasn’t scared at all, and was just following “Police Procedure,” but I knew the look in his eyes.
It was his job– a low priority assignment– to investigate the robbery of our neighbour. And so, moving slowly, he took photographs of the back door, all the while trying to finesse it so that he got to do this from the shade. It was a crazy humid day, and fully arrayed and done up in his uniform to the top button, the poor guy was practically dying. While holding our Daschund in one arm, and the golf club in my other hand, I offered him some water, but he suddenly got all stoic and professional, and told me that he was fine.
Later, as I was taking the dog out for her walk, the cop was coming down the stairs with one of the guys from the upstairs apartment. Heidi went crazy barking, and I apologized to them. The policeman, assuming a wise and experienced posture, said, “don’t worry, she’s just doing her job,” but once again, I could see a tremor of fear in his eyes.
We all left the building at about the same time, and I listened in on their conversation, expecting to hear them discussing the robbery, but no. They were talking about the Toronto Maple Leafs. Kind of excited, and with very impressive knowledge, they were parsing the Leafs defensive corps for the up coming year.
“ Luke Schenn is going to be amazing!”
“And don’t forget Finger, and that’s to say nothing of Kaberle!”
This conversation continued easily and happily all the way up the street to where the police cruiser was parked.
And as the policeman got into the car, he said, “ Look, I’m very optimistic about the Leafs chances of making the play-offs this year, but I have to tell you, I’m a little less optimistic about the recovery of your stolen property.”
This, a postcard of Toronto, taken on the hottest day in August.