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| Helping Daddy Dog |
I do like to see Milt involved in Jeff's projects, but I realized that this project would soon involve me as well. Since this was now post-yoga, 7P.M. on a school night, I was sweaty, ravenous, and anxiously overloaded with my own "homework" to accomplish. I put all those selfish feelings aside, however, and I began flipping myriad switches all over the house to see if we could finally get our porch light to work. This little house project has actually been a major source of contention for me because I have always felt like our house is a burglar target because we do not have a well-lit front stoop to scare unsavory characters away. I guess my reluctant involvement was basically getting what I had asked for all these months -- a bright light. Well, as you probably guessed, Jeff is not a trained electrician, and the light was not fixed that evening.
Then that Friday night, Milt and I arrived home from the dog park, and I was met with the same sight except this time Milt was uninvolved, and Jeff was perplexed. Switches had been flipped and reflipped, but the porch light was still unworkable leading to immense frustration. After about an hour inside our house, I knew something was disastrously wrong because I was sweating bullets indoors, and Jeff always has the air conditioning cranked up. He thought the house was warm because of all the doors, plus our attic, being opened and closed. When it was still 90 degrees inside after pumping the A/C at 72 degrees, we knew we had a catastrophe on our hands. Jeff had blown out the circuit leading to our precious friend, the air conditioner. You can only imagine the sweltering pain that was endured for the entire weekend. Who suffered the most? You got it -- our fur baby, Milton.
We called and called to desperately get an air conditioning repair person to our hot box as sweat dripped down our faces like we had just run a 5K (seriously). When the repair man finally did arrive late Saturday afternoon, he informed us that we had an electricity problem on our hands, and he could be of no help. Thus the calls to the electrician began who did not listen to our cries of "emergency," despite our ever present worry that we would die of the supreme 90+ degree temperature of our house! Our little family of three sat in that heat for more than 72 hours. You can only imagine how tempers flared in that unpleasant atmosphere. We tried to keep our goldendoodle cool with a big fan and multiple wettings in the shower, which subsequently led to lots and lots of mats in his fur. Milt Dog did manage to leave for a lot of Sunday to spend time with Daddy at the office, but he did throw up twice, and I do believe it was due to the heat.
Our air conditioning was finally fixed late Monday afternoon, and I couldn't have been happier! Jeff and I, Milt especially, now have a new-found respect for that blast of cool air that blissfully circulates throughout our old 1929 house. I simply do not know how people, or dogs for that matter, ever lived without it. The ironic part of this whole story is I am detailing it during our first Dallas cold snap, so it all seems like a dream now, but it truly is a nightmare that I will never forget and probably will retell at many a dinner party in years to come.
Happy Monday, everyone!
