by Steve Morris
My wife screamed “No. For God’s sake, No!” from the upstairs window.
I didn’t reply. I was literally seconds away from seeing a lot of blood.
I had waited a long time for it. It was what I had prepared for. They were the ones. I could recognise them from the police descriptions.
I just wanted them torn to red ribbons. My two central right fingers holding the Dobermans’ chain were nearly broken. The Terrier leash I had wrapped around my middle. It was getting difficult to breathe.
One of the Dobermans was almost there. He reached out at them with his beautiful front incisors. One of the burglars was by then visibly urinating.
I had convinced myself I would do it ever since that time we got burgled.
I was still in control. I did not have to go through with it even then.
I had thought about this probably every single night in the last year. I had convinced myself to go through with it if I ever caught them. But I had given little thought to what would happen afterwards.
My lovely dogs would be destroyed. I would be prosecuted. I might be imprisoned. My career and celebrity status would be over. If I was to let those things loose then I would pay for this for many years to come. It would probably be manslaughter. These two were very very scared. Maybe that was enough. Maybe they had learned their lesson already. Our kids needed their dad. Maybe even these two pieces of low life had kids.
All of a sudden a door crashed open violently behind me, and there was a commotion. I frantically turned to see three police officers running through our conservatory and sliding onto the gravel behind me.
Momentarily startled, and off balance it was too late for me and I lost my grip…