A pounding at the door the other morning; my windows rattled. I was upstairs at work. I don't always leave my desk to hear the good news about Jehovah.

The pounder was insistent. I went down, if only for the sake of the windows.

Oh, jeeze, the cops.

Officers  Firth and Kozar in attendance. "What's up, boys?" My preference was to talk to them through the plate glass door. They wanted to come inside.

Not a chance.

I stepped onto the porch. Who wants two armed strangers in his house, and anyway it was a nice morning.

Officer K. said, "Are you aware of Project Safe City?" I hate it when a guy answers a question with a question.

"Why do you want to know?"

Officer K. said, "We have reason to believe you have a firearm." Oh, here we go again.

The last time a representative of the city showed up at my door, she had reason to believe I had a cat. How did she know? The lady cat cop peered through the window at my curtains and said, "Cat hair."

I dislike being spied on.

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