It was early October, right around the time of my deposition, and I had just finished up with Bob's morning routine: disengaging the night pump, mixing his morning meds, flushing his tube, when I heard the distinct sound of a helicopter hovering near our house.
Now this is not highly unusual. We live in downtown, in a large city, and often choppers can be seen and heard hovering near the interstate if there is a traffic accident, or around the stadium on the day of a big game, or dashing to and fro from the hospital's rooftop landing pad.
So I didn't think much of the situation and I leashed up Boomer and headed out the front door for our morning walk.
The sun was just beginning to rise and the clouds in the eastern sky glowed orange and purple and red. I looked up, toward the interstate, expecting to see the helicopter there, but it wasn't. When I turned, I was rather surprised to see a bright reddish orange helicopter hovering directly above our garage in our backyard. Which was curious, to say the least.
But I still didn't think much about it. And Boomer and I headed east, down our block, on our usual route toward the alley. We were walking at an old dog's pace, Boomer stopping to sniff and pee along the way, when the helicopter flew from the back of our house to the street and turned east and followed us.
Hmmm, I thought, this is weird. Not to mention, a bit annoying with all the noise. But Boomer and I continued moseying down the block, to the alley, where we turned north and began our trek down the alley.
And the helicopter turned north. And followed us into the alley.
Now this was really peculiar. Not to mention, sort of spooky. As the thing was right above us and flying low, just above the treetops, and flying slow, keeping our pace. When I looked up, all I could see was its underbelly and those "skids", you know, the long landing feet. I was starting to get a little paranoid.
By then, we were halfway down the alley. And the thing was still above us. So, I decided to turn around and head back toward the street, if for no other reason than to get away from the thing.
And the helicopter started moving backward, staying right on top of us. The thing actually flew backward all the way to the street and always staying right above us.
By then, my heart had quickened. I mean, I was really getting scared. I kept looking up, expecting to see, I don't know, a gun come out of the window aimed at me. But I couldn't see anyone or anything except the underbelly of the helicopter. Directly above us. When we reached the street, my first instinct was to dash directly home, to the safety of the house.
But then I thought, no. I did not want this thing to follow me home.
So I went the other direction, again traveling east. This time I picked up our pace, pretty much dragging Boomer along with me.
And again, the helicopter followed us. Keeping our pace. Down the street, to the next block, where I ducked into the next alley.
And still the helicopter followed and turned down the alley with us.
I crouched behind some bushes under a big oak tree, pulling Boomer in next to me.
And the helicopter hovered above us, just above that tree.
I could see the underbelly of the thing. And the skids. Through the tree branches.
Five minutes passed. I did not move. The helicopter did not move.
I was beginning to think I was losing my mind and imagining the whole thing.
Then a fellow on a bicycle rode past us. He said, "Hey, there's a helicopter above you!"
And I thought, duh. And rather hoped the helicopter would take off after him instead of me. But it didn't.
Ten minutes passed.
Then finally, I heard the helicopter take off. I watched it fly, first straight up in the air, then turn and travel, quickly, over the rooftops, toward the west. A bright reddish orange dragonfly. Without a single identifying marking on it.
Boomer and I came out of the bushes and, although we were a bit shook up, we finished our walk.
That, my friends, is a true story.
And if anyone has a clue why an unmarked reddish orange helicopter would follow a middle-aged woman walking her dog in the early morning -- please let me know!