January 27, 2007

Rotten Little Bastards

No, not the boys.

I got a call yesterday from a neighbour at the cottage, alerting us that we'd been broken into. We're on a small lake in a quiet area, and it's been 30 years since we were last hit - which is pretty amazing. Apparently, two brats had gone door to door breaking into all the cottages in the area, looking for generators, 4X4s, ATVs and things of that nature. Good stuff.

Our cottage is a humble abode. Our main concern is always vandalism - when people have all the isolation and time in the world to do a nasty deed, the fallout can get pretty expensive. They probably weren't counting on our neighbour, now retired, who spends much of the winter up there tearing around on his ATV being his own neighbourhood watch.

We got there at noon, and saw that the back door had been jimmied open. The door frame was splintered. Nothing was missing. Nothing else was damaged. My sisters and I had had a discussion, wondering if they'd stolen the 42" HD TV, the snazzy new stereo or the leather couches. Oh wait. Our TV is older than me, the stereo is a little ghetto blaster that doesn't have FM, and the only thing that's leather are my father's old work boots.

We aren't winterized, so the brats must have figured out rapidly that we don't do winter sports. Forget finding snowmobiles and ATVs here. Usually break-ins are triggered by kids looking for booze, but we've perfected our plan regarding that by drinking everything before we leave.

We reassembled the door jamb, thanked our neighbourhood spy for taking such good care and headed back. It was beautiful and peaceful up there. It was hard to leave.

The police caught the immoral little punks yesterday, and they admitted to breaking into 160 cottages. That's right: 160. The rape and pillage of so many people's little Utopias. It's shameful.


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