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Posts Tagged ‘husky’

What does a bent hotdog skewer, a folding step ladder, a husky and laundry room have in common?  Read on, read on.

Once a month on a specific Wednesday I have to be at work a little earlier than usual and this was one of those Wednesdays. As I stepped out of the shower I hear a clap of thunder.  No surprise every time I have to do some traveling for work it manages to rain.  But it wasn’t thunder my wife who just had knee surgery calls out that something must have fallen in the kitchen.  ‘Okay I’ll get dry and have a look”  My wife  thinks it may be that her mother has fallen so she hobbles out of bed and out of the room in search of the disaster that awaits outside our door.   As I’m exiting the bathroom my wife hobbles back in the room and informs me that there is nothing going on out there but the dog is whining in the laundry room, but she was just in too much pain to check on her properly not to mention that the dog always whines at this time in the morning.

I get dressed and head out to check on the dog.  I can’t open the laundry/dog room door.  Sometimes the dog sleeps in front of the door so a little extra shove is needed but this was not to be the case because I hear her prancing around.  I turn the knob and give a harder shove.  The door remains closed.  I drop to the floor and by ‘drop’ I mean slowly lower my achy 47 yr old body to the floor and get my eye on the ground and peer underneath.  At first I see nothing but some dog paws the ground is clear from the door to the washing machine.  Then I notice a metal bar along the edge of the bottom of the washing machine.  We have a folding stepstool behind the door, that metal bar is the base of the frame of the stepstool.  The G*d  D****d  M****r F***ing  step stool is wedged between the bottom of the washer and about a foot up from the bottom of the door!

I let Denyce know the situation and I head to the garage to find something to slide under the door so I can move the step stool.  I found a piece of wood and a hotdog skewer, the kind used to roast a hotdog over a fire.   Sliding the piece of wood under the door did no good, the bottom end of the stool was jammed under the washer, I was pushing so hard on my end of the wood that I was sliding along the linoleum floor, but that stool was not moving.   The hotdog skewer proved to be of less help.   My last option was the window.

As I was heading out the door to get the ladder my wife reminded me to bring my knife to cut the screen. I maneuvered the ladder up the embankment and against the window frame.  I was very excited to see that the storm window was part way up.  I cut the screen and pushed the storm window all the way up.  The inside window was firmly locked in place.  But it was one of those locks that have been around since the dawn of time, surly I could think my way around this lock.  I pressed against the window and there was plenty of wiggle room, I could slide something between the upper and lower frames and wiggle the mechanism out of the catch.  And I had the perfect tool!  A carpet knife is a really thin blade with a hook on the end.  I figure I can hook the edge of the lock and work it backwards. No problem and I still had time to get to work ahead of time.  I slide my knife between the frames and guess what?  No go.  It seems somebody had thought of this before me.  It appears the way this stupid window was built was to keep people out once it is locked!  Can you imagine that?  The frame is offset where they meet so you can’t slide an object between the two!  My last option is to break the window.   Standing on the ladder I look carefully at exactly what I have to do because now it is about to get serious.  I take inventory.  I need a hammer, gloves, eye protection.  I’m going to break the window slide my hand inside open the lock and open the window.  From there I’ll crawl on top of the dryer and voila!  I go over it in my head once again before heading down the ladder.  Is there another way?  I don’t want to break the window.  I’m missing something, I take another look at the window and with a humbling view I do a self assessment of myself.  I’m no longer the scrawny 12 yr old that could wiggle through this window.  I could get my head and shoulders through the window and then I would reach a sudden unpleasant and humiliating stop.  Now What?

I could still break the window and try to entice my 12 year old 60 pound husky to jump on the dryer and wiggle out the window and then we would be both be balanced atop a precarious ladder, nope, not going to happen.

Entering the house my wife informs me that even if I break the window, she doesn’t think I would fit through, yeah already thought that one through, thanks.

I sit on the floor listening to my husky loudly complaining on the other side of the door.  My wife asks if I knew the non emergency 911 number.  She calls and talks to the dispatcher who is going to call the fire chief and have him call us back.   Did I mention that my wife and I belong to a C.A.R.T (County Animal Response Team) team?  Yeah and we can’t even get our dog out of the laundry room.  And not only am I going to have to call my boss and tell him I’m going to be a little late, I’ve got to call and tell him I’m not going to be in at all.  And then I’ll have to tell him why.  But I still have time…

While waiting for the call from the fire chief I go back to playing with my hotdog skewer under the door.   My wife suggests that I bend the hotdog skewer at a 90 degree angle.  I bite my tongue at the first thought, and the second.  Not sure what good it will do I go ahead and make the bend, I have no better idea and my wife is usually right about such things.  I slide the skewer back under the door and wiggle it around.  Perhaps it will give me more leverage.  Perhaps I can grip the edge of the step stool between the forks and wiggle it out of the way.  Nothing, then a light clicks on in my head.  With the skewer bent I can use it like a lever, from there with a little swearing and patience I manage to maneuver the skewer into position and push down on my end.  The step ladder moved just a fraction but it moved.  I pressed against the door and it opened just enough for me to see the dogs nose.  Still pressing down on my side of the skewer my wife shoved the door a little bit more.  Together we freed the dog! Reaching around I pull out the offending step stool.  With a sigh of relief my wife calls back the 911 dispatcher who cancels the call

In seconds my wife and I are in action.  I clean the dog pee off the laundry room floor.  Five minutes later we are in the car heading for work.  While I’m not going to be early, I’m going to be okay I can still do what I need to do providing there are no more delays.  Everything is moving nicely.  I’m calculating my time.  While I am going to be late it will only be by a few minutes.  I can call the guys and ask them to wait another 15 minutes for me it won’t delay their day that much, life just got a lot better.

Turning off the exit to drop my wife off at her work we run smack dab into rush hour traffic.  Bottleneck, dead stop!  I call my boss.  I have a wonderful boss and he tells me not to worry, just do what I can.  Of course he doesn’t know the whole story just that I’m held up in traffic.  Later in the day I would fill him in.

Finally I’m at work about half an hour late, I hop in the work van and make the 40 minute trek to Lewistown where they guys are waiting for me. Of course I owed it to them to tell the whole story, in four part harmony.  They laughed and one wondered why I just didn’t take the opportunity to cut out a doggy door?

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We purchased a new living room sofa, and this badboy is huge, plus with the touch of a button each section reclines. There is a battery backup in the case of a black out but we have yet to put a battery in.  Why?  Because it takes two 9 volt batteries, they are 7.99 and we are cheap.  Besides we live in the woods in the middle of almost nowhere what are the chances of a power failure?

So the other day we did not have a power failure and we still don’t have batteries in the recliner because we are still cheap, but I did learn how we would get our lazy butts out of the chair if there was an outage.

My wife was sitting beside me on her side playing a video game on the computer, half asleep with three of the cats piled on top of her.  I’m on my side, playing a computer game on the ole’ Xbox, half asleep with two cats zoned out on my lap.   The dog is outside on her lunge line.  Suddenly I hear the sound of dogs growling.  Sequoia is more than ready to take on any dog that crosses her path.  I didn’t even think.  Pressing the button on the chair would take too much time.  I tossed the Xbox controller and just leaped off the end of the recliner which remained in its reclined position, my wife was hot on my heels. So yes it is possible to leave the electric recliners without power or a battery backup.

As for the dogs?

When I stepped outside Sequoia was nose to nose with a German shepherd and no, not a guy with a heavy accent herding sheep but the four legged dog type.  I’ve got to give the shepherd credit, he stayed just out of reach of Sequoia they could touch noses but that was it.  The dog took one look at me and headed for home. No blood, no wounds, no fuss no muss.  Just like that it was over.

What is the moral of the story?  We don’t need no stinkin’ batteries.

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Not a post so to speak, Just Sequoia and I having a little fun.

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Don't Worry, It will be okay!

Currently there are three Snapple bottles sitting on my desk.  Two empty one almost full.   For those of you who don’t know Snapple puts ‘interesting’ facts on the underside of the lid.  My three caps read:

Fact #912 Meteorologists claim they’re right 85% of the time. Personally I’d like to see some independent study in order to back of the claim. 

Fact #905 The side of a hammer is called a cheek.  Good to know, however in the odd time (probably never) I need to refer to the side of a hammer I’ll probably just avoid the confusion and call it, ‘The side of a hammer’.

Fact #879 Most Koala bears sleep about 22 hours a day.  Just one more reason to love, idolize and emulate Koala bears.

In other strange news the ‘weird news’ section of the CDT or Centre Daily Times ran a story from the associated press about a Dairy Princess who is lactose intolerant.   I too am lactose intolerant, which is probably a benefit of suffering from Crohn’s disease.  All I have to say is Go Princess!  And when the time comes, I hope to be at her inauguration when she becomes Queen.   I wonder if she will marry a vegan who has to eat meat.

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Misty: The Update

After I posted my last blog, ‘Misty’ my father sent me an email with some details I had not known about or forgotten.

“We were not in the import and export business. We were produce wholesalers to restaurants, hotels, steamships etc. (Not to grocery stores)”.

 “I got Misty in a deal I made to buy 100 cases of Tomatoes and the supplier would give me a dog. I had no idea when I said OK what kind of a dog it was, not that it would have made a difference”.

Misty did pull all of you around in a sleigh at the country house. She loved that place. I can still see her romping around in the snow.

In my previous post I told the story of how Misty parted the newspapers and pooped on the floor, what I didn’t know was why.  The following from my father explains all.  Again for those of you thinking about becoming a husky owner you may want to think twice.

 “…the first night we had her and put all that paper down. Once it was all down, we worked on blocking the stairs going up. If you remember, it was an open staircase and we found some pieces of wood and used some suitcases to block all possible ways for her to get out of the basement. When we finished and went upstairs, Misty was waiting for us in our bedroom. To this day I can’t figure out how she got by us and how those little legs took her up that staircase. Anyway we brought her back downstairs and to thank us she spread the paper and pooped on the floor.”

 I do remember that my father did not put an ad in the newspaper for Misty, but was unclear on the details of who eventually wound up with her:

 “… We never did put an ad in the paper to sell her. We wanted her to have a home where we knew the people personally and that they would take proper care of her. We tried for quite a while but had no takers. Finally the purchasing agent of the Queen Elizabeth hotel, who was a friend of ours and a golfing buddy had just gotten married. I thought it would be nice if they had a beautiful dog. He was hesitant but his wife jumped at it and that was that. Misty was going to have a good home. I know she was happy because they used come by once in a while with her and she always got really excited to see us, but there was never a problem of her leaving with them. We were sad but happy that she was well taken care of”

I am glad to know that Misty was well loved and taken care of.  In the end it is all I can ask and all that I hoped for.

Thank you dad.

My Eldest sister, My Brother, Misty, Me

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Yes I am stealing the title of one of my sister’s blog, but only because the two are related, we are brother and sister, and the blog post is sort of related as well.  In fact to really understand this entry I encourage you to read hers so go ahead click on the following link, no worries it will open in a separate window and when you are done reading her post I will meet you back here and all will make sense so, Please Shut the Door On Your Way Out.

Ah, there you are, so nice of you to come back.

Just before we go to bed I take Sequoia out for her final walk of the evening.  She does her business, spends a few minutes checking things out and head back inside.  I get her dinner together set her up in her room and my wife and I go to bed.

Many a nights, about 15 minutes after we get under the covers Sequoia starts to howl.  When we decided to keep Sequoia my wife and I both made her promises and we tend to stick to those promises. One of mine was that if she really needs something after lights out all she needs to do is howl loud enough for me to hear and I’ll come and make sure she is okay.

For the most part the only time she called out was during thunder storms.  Then a few months ago when we were in the process of switching her meds she was not reacting well and all she wanted to do was drink water. Every night when I got into bed she would howl.  I would drag my arse out of bed and take her out, again she would do her business and we would head back in the house and call it a night.  Some nights I had to get up a few times and still in the morning I would have to clean her floor.

Now Sequoia is doing much better, but she still calls out at night.  Not all the time, but when it starts it goes on every night for weeks.  I figured it became part of the routine from when she was sick.  Sequoia happens to thrive on her routine. 

I was talking to the owner of Wiscoy who is very knowledgeable and she mentioned that she had a dog who, as the dog got older demanded more attention, Wanda (the owner of Wiscoy) thinks that maybe, just maybe as the dog got older she needed to know that Wanda was still there looking out for her.  Now this may be anthromorphising but there is a ring of truth to it, we also have an older cat who seems to be more snuggly than ever before.

I noticed that when I took Sequoia out she didn’t always pee.  Sequoia, more often then not would wander onto the grass, smell the ground head back to the house and make a bee line for her bed and that would be that.  Now if she calls I don’t even take her outside.  I just let her wander around the living room for a few minutes then all on her own she will wander into her room and curl up in her bed. It is almost like she just wants to make sure the world still exists outside her door and once satisfied that it does and we are still in it she is fine. 

And that is alright by me.

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A few pictures I thought I would post.  And yes that is Sequoia sitting on the porch eating an icycle. Sequoia fast asleep, toes up.  That is Deirdre sleeping on her nose.  And of course good ole’ home sweet home.

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