It’s the middle of the night with a chorus of coqui frogs and the occasional chirping of a frisky gecko, dulled to a gentle nightly soundtrack by the hum of the box fan at the bedside. Even the periodic collective mournful howl of the neighborhood’s resident pups or the cries of the confused roosters cannot wake our drowsing family. We have become accustomed to sounds of our surroundings and have come to love them.

The knocking on our door did not wake us, nor did the sound of two police cars pulling up in our driveway with the glow from the blue lights gleaming through our windows. What did arouse my mind from the glorious realm of dreams was the rising cacophony of alarmed barking. Nothing yanks me out of bed, snaps me into a state of clarity like the aggravated howl of our dogs.

They may not be the largest, most muscular hounds – nor their bark the most aggressive, terror inspiring sound – but as far as surveillance goes, they are better than any alarm system we have invested in. But this security system comes with unconditional love and companionship. Our armament only asks to be scratched behind the ears, fed and given a warm place to sleep.

Oh, the police at our door? Yes, well, apparently our land line, which is only connected so that we may take advantage of the internet package, and that does not actually work – dialed out to 911. The officers had stopped by the house to check that all was well. When informed the line does not dial out, they simply shrugged if off and passed it off as the weather. Interestingly enough, it was not that surprising to them; good to know. Great to know the police follow up on 911 calls in our rural area. Fantastic to know no one is sneaking up on our house unannounced.