On Monday night, my next door neighbor was burglarized. Around 8:30, he showed up on my doorstep with a cop in tow.

"Did you see or hear anything?"

"No, afraid not."

"You didn't hear the alarm go off?"

"Nope."

One of the reasons why I live a house in West Slope instead of a trendy neighborhood like NW or Laurelhurst is because I insist on playing video games, music and TV at volumes that even the Maxell guy would balk at. I have no sympathy for neighbor and their complaints about hearing loss. Within five minutes of signing an apartment lease, I'd be drawn and quartered by other residents. Shucks, I barely heard the knock at the door.

Apparently, my neighbor is an Emmy-nominated composer and he doesn't take kindly to thieves attempting to get into his basement studio. He mentioned getting an attack dog before wandering off with the cop. On a good note, I'm living next door to a man who's performed with Miles Davis. On a bad note, THERE'S AN EVIL, NO-GOOD BURGLAR ON THE LOOSE!

A huge drawback of living in a house is that every bump in the night can't be blamed on someone on the other side of a wall. I have several weapons at my disposal in case of a full-scale home invasion (potato gun, steak knives, blood-thirsty Chia Pet) but what about when I'm not there? Right now, the thief could be devising an elaborate plot to steal my Goodwill stereo receiver.

That does it. I will not live in fear. After work, I'm going to straight to Home Depot and I'm buying an automatic draw bridge. When I get home, I'm going to dig a moat around the perimeter. Instead of water, I'll fill it with neighborhood raccoons, squirrels and that damn cat that won't get off my lawn furniture. If a moat full of feral animals doesn't steer the thief back towards Lake Oswego, nothing will.

Maybe I should also invest in a motion-censor cannon. Hmmm....