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You Know What Frosts my Pumpkin?

Placing pumpkins on the front steps leading up to the front door has been a tradition since I can remember. For the most part, people just look at them from afar, while a few little kids come in for a closer look. Then there are those rotten unsupervised teenagers with nothing better to do. They seem to think smashing the neighbor’s is a wise idea.
 
I suppose the odds of sneaking up to the front door under the cover of darkness to mug an unsuspecting and defenseless fruit and get away with it, are pretty high.

We have four dogs at the time of this writing, although by the time you read this, our application for a kennel license may have been approved removing the limit. One of them is a witch according to the most current breed information. She spends her time growling for hours to protect a piece of lint or food discarded by the other three. When she barks, it is because something is wrong. The other ones bark because they can. One night she barked at three in the morning, we had someone trying to break in the porch door. This particular night she barked, so I went to take a look. As I peered through the window, there were three boys just about to walk away with my kid’s sentimental Magic Marker artwork. I guess it’s fortunate that I have a pile of running shoes in my office. I slipped out the side door as they were hurriedly heading down the street.

Once they figured out I was after them, they dropped my pumpkins and took off running at full speed.
 
The chase was on. I run for a lot of causes from The American Heart Association to the local Boys and Girls Club – this – this was personal. I not only wanted to save my pumpkins, but I wanted them caught! They took an unfortunate route, one with a river on one side and a train track on the other. It was like herding pigs to the slaughter. If I could beat them to the bridge, there would only be one way out; through me. I gave out a little Dracula sort of laugh and kicked it in to high gear. I was quickly gaining on them shouting like the mad man that I am. And there on the one lane bridge I caught one by the jacket collar and then grabbed a second one by the sleeve. The third one gave up easily.

The rest is in the police report.

On the way back I was feeling pretty proud of myself and pictured the headline: Fat old guy chases down youthful pumpkin thieves. This is big news in a town like mine.

Running, everyone needs a reason.

Thanks for the votes and comments. This is an exceprt from my new book: 
ICU to Marathon
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