Photographer A. J. Windless    
The Burglar
Everywhere we went Tecumseh was one of the most amiable dogs you could ever want to meet. He was friendly, cordial, and you wouldn't think he had enough ferociousness in him to kill a mosquito. But he also had an uncanny intelligence, and he could do the unexpected when he felt it was appropriate. There was a grade school down the street from us. In the back of the building was a large field, used as a playground, a football field, a softball field, or any other activity worthy of a hundred students hollering and running about. Occasionally, after all the students had left and gone home, we would   stop there. I primarily went there to shoot a few baskets, but always treated Tecumseh to a little recreation as well. The field had a high cinderblock wall seperating it from the backyards that surrounded its perimeter. One delightful evening, with the sun resting low on the horizon, as we casually strolled through the grass, a figure suddenly and suspiciously dropped into the schoolyard from one of those private residences. Uncharacteristic of Tecumseh, he charged the fellow, angrily barking and growling,  while the character in question came to a sudden halt and threw his hands up into the air as if he already had extensive experience with police dogs. I called Tecumseh off and asked the stranger what he was doing. He admitted he had been burglarizing the adjacent home and plead with me not to tell anyone. He said that he was out on parole and that if I told anyone he would go back to jail. Feeling more sympathetic for the neighbors than I did for the burglar, I immediately walked across the street to a pay phone and called the county sheriff. It took the sheriff five or ten minutes to get there, and by that time the thief was long gone. That was the only time I have ever seen Tecumseh growl at anyone, demonstrating that, despite his amiable personality, he could be a quality watch dog when he sensed that something was wrong. It's only too bad I didn't carry a pair of handcuffs. With Tecumseh standing there as my threat, the burglar probably would have allowed me lock his wrists together behind his back. But what would I have done next? After all, I never had quite enough vision to teach Tecumseh to go fetch the sheriff for me.
    ◄ Back to True Dog Stories    
    ◄ My True Stories    
    Back to Blog    
    Back to About the Artist    
    ◄◄ Go to Galleries    
    ◄◄ My Songwriting    
    ◄◄◄ Back to Home    
    © 2021