Urban guerrilla

I stalk our neighborhood for unoccupied, fenced property which almost always has a No Trespassing sign prominently displayed. Then I release Annie Bones so she can run free. I feel a little like an urban guerrilla.
Because I am what some would call 'an old lady,' with almost white hair and a few wrinkles, I'm let off with a, "really ma'am, you aren't allowed in here."
And I say, "Oh, I'm sorry, of course. How silly of me."
They smile and my dog and I go our way. She's had her run, I've had my fun and the warners feel like they've been kind to a grandmotherly type. (This is just one of the perks of getting older.)