Last night my mother came to me with some sad news of a dear "friend" who recently passed. Of course, there comes a time for all of us, but for those of the canine species it seems to come so much quicker. Gaston was particularly close to my heart because of a situation I had back in the summer of 2003.
I had just come home for summer break from college and had not been home much longer than 5 hours, yet as I prepared for bed in the bathroom of my parents house I heard a loud scream from my mother calling my father's name. She had let my dog outside to do her "business" in the backyard only to find a man standing on the railing of our back porch peering in at me while I was in the bathroom. He jumped at her screams but managed to scare her even more by charging at her first, in what she realized, after, was an attempt to pick up something he dropped...then he basically ran like hell.
Everything after that was such a blur. All I basically remember was my brother and father waking up from a sound sleep, grabbing a club and flashlight, and bolting out the door. I have never seen such furry in their eyes, and it was actually pretty reassuring. I worried only slightly for their saftey. I've never seen them so angry, so I was pretty confidient their rage could take whatever lie ahead of them. Immediately, my mother dialed 911, and surprisingly only minutes later there was a police officer and a huge german shepard tearing through my house.
That german shepard was Gaston! He was all business, I tell you. He paid no attention to my little yapping jack russell terrier. He was busy picking up the scent of the intruder. Seconds later, he was off down my neighborhood following his tracks. Unfortunately, the track ended ubruptly, and we found nothing. The officer said the man must have hopped into a car because Gaston lost the scent on the street, and it just stopped no where in particular. But seriously, that night my heroes were my brother, father, and Gaston. Somehow, I felt safe because of them.
It was really nerve wrecking to have not found the man looking in at me through the bathroom window. The police think he knew me. They didn't believe he was peeping tom choosing at random because I had been in town for such a short time and found foot prints only under my bedroom window. They had no evidence to catch the guy, but my parents say they have a pretty good idea of who they think the culprit is (also, yes, my mother had seen the man, but it was dark outside and it happened all so quickly that she only really saw his silhouette). Luckily, they also think he didn't have intentions to hurt me...just to pretty much be a perv or a jerk or both.
Seriously, I've never been so terrified, though. Ok, yes, I have...but those are another story. Pretty much, I'm thankful my town had a canine on their police squad. Even though nothing came of my incident, I can only imagine how many people he has helped over his lifetime. So thank you, Gaston! You were definitely appreciated and will be missed. I hope you are happy now in puppy heaven and get all treats you deserve.
And to the creep who was my peeping tom, if you are reading this now, screw you! I really hope it was a one-time thing, and I pray you are a decent human being and realized your mistake. I really want to feel safe in my own home, but you have forever made that difficult for me.
