Like a Good Neighbor...

One fine day, I was walking my dog around the block when I heard a faint banging sound.  I happened to look up and see a woman frantically gesturing for me from an upstairs window of a gigantic house.

Because I am me, I immediately thought that this woman was being held captive in some sort of white slavery ring.  It just seemed like the most logical explanation.  I imagined myself storming in with the cops and rescuing her and ending up on the front page of the Chicago Tribune, and then maybe featured in one of those Reader's Digest "Drama in Real Life" segments.  Yes, I do dream big, Reader's Digest big.

Anyway, the woman apparently couldn't open the third floor window, and I could barely hear her.  I got my cell phone out, ready to call 911 or Batman or whoever takes the suspected white slavery ring calls.  Then I saw the top of a little boy's head in the window next to her.  I started trying to read her lips instead of trying to get a SWAT team on its way.

It turns out the woman's son had pulled the doorknob off while they were inside a room, locking them in.  She had been standing in the window for two hours, trying to get someone's attention.  Luckily I am a looky loo and spotted them.  She mimed me the code for her garage and I ran around the block (she lived in a row house) and entered her house, ran up the stairs and MacGyvered the door open.  The woman was very embarrassed that a total stranger had to rescue her, but we laughed about it and moved on with our lives.

A few months later, I found a dog in my alley.  He was older and had no collar or tags, so I brought him home.  Because I am ten years old, I made a flyer about him and passed them all over the neighborhood.  Guess who's dog he ended up being?  Yes, the non-slave woman.  I think she started getting suspicious of me at that point, like I was following her around just waiting for her to slip up in some way, but I got a $25 gift card out of the deal, so I was a happy camper.

I'm still wandering the streets of my neighborhood with my eyes peeled for white slavers, though.