Hero Dog is Heroic

The darkness is the coward's only friend.

This is my neighbor's fence and what used to be her garbage bin. Early Sunday morning, about 2:00 am, some carbon-based shit-fer-brains came by and played the felony arson card. The scum got away this time (lucky for them), but the damage was mitigated by a brave watchdog who sprung into barking action and alerted the rest of the pack to the 12+ foot flames:

Not even two years old but still very happy with himself.

On a much lesser heroic note, I got to live up to my legacy and play Saint Paul Fireman with my garden hose and fancy car-washing nozzle. My amateur rig reached just far enough across the alley to keep the fire limited to what you see above. It's not like I was facing the MGM Grand, or the Willard Hotel, but it was still an exciting night here on the edge of the tundra.

While I was breathing the fumes, Mrs. OctaneBoy was giving the directions to the 911 dispatcher and within minutes, the fellas from Station 14 were on the scene. They were coming from the-mop up of an earlier, similar incident. Later, they'd be off to address another burning garbage can off Howell Avenue.