More on Kennel Crimes
Jan. 7th, 2007 02:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grrgoylI had put my foot down about quitting the kennels once and for all for one whole day. But then I reexamined my finances and came very reluctantly to the conclusion that this job does more than give me breathing room -- this job is the difference between stashing savings away and living paycheck to paycheck again, and I've done that for far too long and am getting a little too old to do it anymore. So I crawled back on my hands and knees to the boss, who was very understanding.
I went back Friday night with trepidation but armed with our bad-ass black Mag-Lite™, the only flashlight that doubles as a perfectly respectable weapon for hand-to-hand combat; as well as the only flashlight that uses the Predator for its logo.
It took about an hour to decide that it was preferable to listen to the soothing tunes of Little Miss Sunshine (the best soundtrack I've heard since Garden State) than straining to identify the source of every squeak and creak in the 40-year-old building. I never thought I'd feel comfortable enough to sleep there again, but I should have known better than to underestimate my ability to sleep under almost any conditions. However, it might be a long time before I return to sleeping in the breakroom, directly across from the office that was broken into.
Saturday night was a different story though. It was about 5 degrees out with 40 mph winds, bitterly, bitterly cold. I'd like to think that would put off any ne'er-do-wells, but if I could get inside the mind of a criminal that easily I wouldn't be working two jobs. Normally I would find this weather thrilling, exhilarating (from the safe, warm belly of the hospital), but in these circumstances the night was infused with an air of the sinister, a malevolent sentience living just out of sight on the other side of the wall. Too easy to imagine the sound of boots crunching in the snow of the parking lot. Too easy to mistake scraping tree branches for someone lightly scaling the fence.
Most of the dogs weren't bothered (if slightly more eager to get their business done and get back inside), but one of the last made it to the middle of the yard and suddenly froze (along with my heart), head whipping sharply to stare at the far right corner. Oh Jeeee-sus dog. Then as I was finishing up my paperwork the Corgi Herd started barking like mad, right about the time of the previous break-in. It was the biggest cardiovascular workout I've had in a long time.
By the end I practically ran out of there, thoroughly freaked out.
Here's the thing. The story, according to J. (the full-time overnight woman), was she had just finished walking the dogs about 4:30 a.m. She was in the laundry room making surgical packs when she heard all the dogs barking. She told them to be quiet, thought nothing else of it, and when she went upstairs to leave discovered the broken window.
There are a few problems that Tery and I can see. First of all, to me the idea of making packs just before the end of your shift is just crazy talk, though obviously she might do things differently than me. Secondly, as I mentioned the hospital creaks and groans and rattles on a perfectly still night, but the point is you can hear all of it quite clearly. Neither of us can understand how J. failed to hear the racket that doubtlessly had to be made by the thief. Thirdly, if the thief had enough knowledge of her routine to wait until all the dogs were walked, why not wait an extra half hour and do it after her shift ended?
What I'm driving at is Tery has long suspected her of going home in the middle of her shift and then coming back in the morning to clock out. This is based on more than one doctor complaining of trying to call at all hours of the night with no answer (she always claims to be out with the dogs, even at 1 a.m.). Tery generally doesn't mind because she gets all her work done. But consequently she's 90% sure that J. is lying about even being there during the break-in. I really hope she's right, and wish that J. would come clean about it. If I'm going to keep working there, I need to maintain the illusion that my car parked by the front door creates at least some measure of a deterrant. I don't care what happens after I leave, but please, not while I'm there. I hope to God the new cameras are installed by next weekend.
I went back Friday night with trepidation but armed with our bad-ass black Mag-Lite™, the only flashlight that doubles as a perfectly respectable weapon for hand-to-hand combat; as well as the only flashlight that uses the Predator for its logo.
It took about an hour to decide that it was preferable to listen to the soothing tunes of Little Miss Sunshine (the best soundtrack I've heard since Garden State) than straining to identify the source of every squeak and creak in the 40-year-old building. I never thought I'd feel comfortable enough to sleep there again, but I should have known better than to underestimate my ability to sleep under almost any conditions. However, it might be a long time before I return to sleeping in the breakroom, directly across from the office that was broken into.
Saturday night was a different story though. It was about 5 degrees out with 40 mph winds, bitterly, bitterly cold. I'd like to think that would put off any ne'er-do-wells, but if I could get inside the mind of a criminal that easily I wouldn't be working two jobs. Normally I would find this weather thrilling, exhilarating (from the safe, warm belly of the hospital), but in these circumstances the night was infused with an air of the sinister, a malevolent sentience living just out of sight on the other side of the wall. Too easy to imagine the sound of boots crunching in the snow of the parking lot. Too easy to mistake scraping tree branches for someone lightly scaling the fence.
Most of the dogs weren't bothered (if slightly more eager to get their business done and get back inside), but one of the last made it to the middle of the yard and suddenly froze (along with my heart), head whipping sharply to stare at the far right corner. Oh Jeeee-sus dog. Then as I was finishing up my paperwork the Corgi Herd started barking like mad, right about the time of the previous break-in. It was the biggest cardiovascular workout I've had in a long time.
By the end I practically ran out of there, thoroughly freaked out.
Here's the thing. The story, according to J. (the full-time overnight woman), was she had just finished walking the dogs about 4:30 a.m. She was in the laundry room making surgical packs when she heard all the dogs barking. She told them to be quiet, thought nothing else of it, and when she went upstairs to leave discovered the broken window.
There are a few problems that Tery and I can see. First of all, to me the idea of making packs just before the end of your shift is just crazy talk, though obviously she might do things differently than me. Secondly, as I mentioned the hospital creaks and groans and rattles on a perfectly still night, but the point is you can hear all of it quite clearly. Neither of us can understand how J. failed to hear the racket that doubtlessly had to be made by the thief. Thirdly, if the thief had enough knowledge of her routine to wait until all the dogs were walked, why not wait an extra half hour and do it after her shift ended?
What I'm driving at is Tery has long suspected her of going home in the middle of her shift and then coming back in the morning to clock out. This is based on more than one doctor complaining of trying to call at all hours of the night with no answer (she always claims to be out with the dogs, even at 1 a.m.). Tery generally doesn't mind because she gets all her work done. But consequently she's 90% sure that J. is lying about even being there during the break-in. I really hope she's right, and wish that J. would come clean about it. If I'm going to keep working there, I need to maintain the illusion that my car parked by the front door creates at least some measure of a deterrant. I don't care what happens after I leave, but please, not while I'm there. I hope to God the new cameras are installed by next weekend.
