When we returned to Carlisle from California, we made some new friends. They stop by about once a week and vacuum up all the dirt and stuff our parents bring inside and make our house smell a lot better too – they even wash and refill our water bowls!
Since they are trying to grow their business, they have created accounts on a number of different social media platforms and have featured us in some of their posts.
The one above shows me “Saying Hello” to Ana. She is trying to teach me this phrase in Portuguese as she is from Brazil and this is the language they speak there. I think I’ve learned it and in any case greet her whenever she comes over with a good paw shake.
One phrase we have all learned is “Muito obrigada”, which translates to “Thank you very much”…something we always say when they leave because they are so nice and even send us holiday greetings like the one below. We also learned “tchau” – which is the last thing we say to then as they walk out the door.
This afternoon things got really interesting for us here in Carlisle for 20 minutes or so.
It started with Dad deciding to final attack a stain in the flooring at the top of our stairs that has been there since we moved in. There were discussions about getting the entire upstairs floors done before we moved back from California and all our stuff was delivered. Well, that never happened so Dad broke out the belt sander – a relatively new addition to his set of power tools (and one which he has already gotten in a fight with…and lost) – to see if he could get rid of the stain and then apply some polyurethane to protect the wood.
This was all going to plan – at least the stain, which happened to basically be under the smoke detector was removed – until said smoke detector started going off. I stayed in my chair while Zoe went running over to the noise to see if she could help. Unfortunately, Dad had misplaced his eyeglasses while sanding and couldn’t see which button to hit to turn off the alarm. As he was punching buttons at random with his left hand, his right hand wiped his nose and came up bloody! Since the alarm was still blaring Nurse Tempi did not move. Now with a handkerchief pressed against his nose he went downstairs to the ADT box, hit a button, entered a code and the alarm stopped – as did his nose bleed.
Back upstairs, he found his glasses and got back to work on the floor…while Zoe and I sat on the screened in porch and shook off the ringing in our ears.
Maybe 10 minutes later – again we are not so good with time unless Zoe is “on the clock” as her Zozymes coat her food for 15 minutes (this duration she has down pat) – we started barking. Dad figured it was another one of the neighborhood dogs walking down the street but was surprised to see a policeman walking up to our front door. Forgetting about the alarm incident (which just happened), he was sure it was in response to Zoe’s incessant barking the day before*.
Instead, the kind man in blue asked if everything was alright as a fire alarm had been recorded and the fire department was on the way. Embarrassed, Dad had to tell him he set it off while sanding the floor and didn’t turn it off in time. The officer confirmed that we were the owners of the house and left.
Just a short time later, Dad had to repeat this unflattering story to the Chief of the Fire Department who had driven into our driveway in a smallish truck minutes before the large fire truck parked in front of our house – all of whom were graciously welcomed by us pups!
Turns out the Chief was a great guy and gave us pets during Dad’s confession…and while Dad updated the fire departments record of who owns our house – and most importantly entered that two dogs also lived at this address. I think this might be linked to me finding that sign the other day that should have been in the window acknowledging that this was our residence.
After he left, things quieted down again and we returned to our respective seats and got back to our naps. Meanwhile, Dad had to tell his story to Mom who called after having seen texts from neighbors asking if everything was alright. And then there was the texts back to these neighbors explaining everything was indeed ok.
The floor turned out better than it had been but probably really needs professional help as there are other discolored spots, and even more places where there are dings and scratches. Until that happens, this is what we will be living with.
The Tempest
*On Monday Mom had the day off to celebrate (?) President’s Day. Since it was sunny out, we decided to have a bonfire to burn some of the fallen branches that had accumulated in the more then 2 years since we last could burn. This meant we were all outside all afternoon, which meant Zoe saw all the people walking their dogs, all the delivery trucks, all the deer passing through the woods, etc. However, there were a few occasions my parents couldn’t figure out what she was on about. Turns out, two neighborhood dogs (Norman and Bertie) were out of leash enjoying the woods. Dad found this out when we were on a walk and ran into the pair. Fortunately for Dad, a couple of neighbors were also out and provided enough distractions that we were able to get home without getting into a fight with them…or with each other.
It turns out, I have been doing a lot more reading recently – other than my Mother’s address book.
The room at the end of the hall did have a number of titles I found interesting and took off the shelves when Zoe and I were left alone (a rare occurrence) or unattended (a more common experience with Mom being on Zoom and Dad doing some shopping at someplace other than a hardware store – those shopping trips we gladly go on since there is almost always a treat behind the counter for us).
As you can probably tell, it’s been largely a non-fiction winter, but I am sure you can see why these titles caught my eye.
And then there was this interesting thing I found tucked between a couple of books and brought out to the living room to question my parents why this was not in a window? Do they not care about us? Should I run away again to go on another deer hunt?
The Tempest
PS – the reorganizing Dad did the other day was to move the books off the shelves on the floor to ones higher up on the wall. It may take me awhile to get at them, but if they really think they are safe from me…well they should have learned by now not to underestimate me!
Sorry it has been so long since I have posted. It isn’t for a lack of stories. In fact, it is the opposite: I have so many stories stockpiled I haven’t been able to pick which one to tell. Which one has the most intrigue or humor? Which one ties to previous posts that I’ve hinted at and haven’t blogged about yet? And by the time I try to get one down some new adventure crops up and distracts me once again
For instance, yesterday I was finally going to sit down with The Scribe and post something that happened this weekend as soon as he was finished moving some things around (we are constantly trying putting things in better places – in part to keep me from “shopping”. After the shoe closet was closed off what is a girl to do?). But before he could finish and start the original story I was about to tell, he found me on the couch reading a book I found on one of the shelves he had been clearing.
So, for the near future, I will keep my stories short in order to chip away at my backlog – I realized I could even take some of the texts that my dad sends to friends about Zoe and my adventures as the entire story…these are usually only a sentence or two and some pictures. Maybe this strategy will help me focus and possibly return to some more in-depth blogs.
More soon,
The Tempest
EDITORS NOTE: The book Tempi was “reading” was actually an address book I have had since high school. For those youngsters reading this, there was a time when you had to write peoples phone numbers and addresses on pieces of paper which were put in alphabetical order (based on the persons last name) and then bound together resulting in a: Address Book. And when you wanted to share this information with friends or family, you would have to write it down and give it to them so they could write it down in their own address book…if they could find it.
Montana Moments 