Inktrails from Alaska

People Being Stupid with Dogs

I really should start meditating again. I'm all wound up because of my recent visit to the laundromat.

I could go on and on about laundromats (and have before, undoubtedly) but every visit has a different theme. This time the theme was dogs. That, and always hitting every single traffic light all day long. But that's just being Cursed For A Day. We all have those days. You know, Mercury in Retrograde and all that.

I do think Mercury is in retrograde because one of my dryers would not turn on, even though it ate my token. The attendant got another token and put it in and twisted the knob and the dryer went on. "You just have to do it like that, real fast," she said. Okay. Well. I did it exactly like that, but it didn't work for me. I think it knows her better.

I turn around and there is a darling little teeny tiny shihzypoodlything. He's got his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He must have weighed all of three or four pounds soaking wet.

I asked his owner if I could give him a dog cookie. She thought I meant a people cookie until I showed her that yes, I carry dog cookies in my pocket. She said he might not eat it because his jaw is deformed. Poor little guy. He carried it around and poked at it with his nose but he didn't even try to eat it.

While my clothes were drying and she was folding hers, I asked where she got him.

"Well, a friend of a neighbor was breeding them, and the female had six litters in a row and that was too much, so they decided they'd better separate the pair."

"That male was the stud? With his jaw deformity?" I couldn't disguise my shock. She shook her head and said, "Yes, and they were selling the puppies! They have some cute name for them..."

"Oh great, designer dog stuff too?" Facepalm. (I did, I did a facepalm.)

Oh yes. And so they told me I could keep him on a time-share basis, as long as they could have him back to, you know..." She raised her eyebrows.

It was at this point I said that I needed to go check on my clothes and got out of there for a few minutes. The lady with the little dog disapproved of the backyard puppymill as much as I did, and said she didn't see how she could ever give him back. I hope she doesn't. And I hope she gets his little nuts removed, too!

So while outside to get a breath of fresh air and to rid myself of the horrid puppymill story (in my own town!) I heard a dog barking. And barking. And barking. You know that desperate bark?

I looked across the way to the Natural Foods Co-op and the dog barking was coming from there. I crossed the street and sure enough, there was a dog in a car, with the window rolled down about three inches, barking and getting more and more desperate. Last time I'd checked the temperature it was 83. Not good. In fact, I'd taken my dogs to my studio to hang out while I did my laundry, because there is an airconditioner there. The house at home was really hot, I figured they'd be better off cooling it at my studio.

The dog wasn't fainting, but it had already been about ten minutes and in another ten it was going to be about 120 in that car, which was parked in full sun.

I went into the Co-op and told an employee that there was a dog in a hot car and gave her the license plate number. It took them another fifteen minutes to get the guts up to say something over the PA. I waited outside while chatting with some nice folks who I think were waiting for a cab.

About five minutes later an older woman came out, looked at her dog and started coming back into the store. I yelled across the parking lot that the temperature was probably about 120 in there. She insisted her dog was "fine." I asked her to please turn on the car and start the air conditioning. She refused, and said that she keeps a "sharp eye" on her AND that she had only been in the story for ten minutes. Which was a lie, of course.

I came *this* close to calling the cops. Even if your dog isn't passed out in the last stages of heat stroke it doesn't mean they aren't suffering and getting sick!

About five minutes later the woman came back to her car and drove away. I know, because I was watching from the laundromat. I was going to call the cops if another ten minutes had gone by.

I think she was embarrassed, and will think twice about doing something like this again. She was clearly richer than most and certainly had a safe place to leave her dog at home next time she needs to go into the store when it is hot. For "only" ten minutes.

On my way home my thermometer read 88°.

 

The Gaaaack Factor

Drains are some of the most wonderful bits of civilization known to man. Plumbing is wonderful. But when it plugs up it gets very, very icky very, very fast.

This is my shower drain. The strainer keeps everything out of the drain, so I never have to open it up to take out the ggaaaaccccckkkk that hair and conditioner etc. turns into. I would do almost anything to never, ever have to deal with that disgusting goo. How it gets that way, and how it smells that way and HEY, is it MOVING?

So I figured out a solution!

This is a strainer for a kitchen drain and it won't fit IN my shower drain but it actually works much better upside down.

See, if it went in the right way, and there was a bunch of hair and .....stuff.....that sunk down into the pit of the strainer, then the drain would not drain, and the yucko would float up onto my feet. And then I would be horrified, disgusted and really grossed out. And would have to get out and wash my feet. Ick ick ick.

(Excuse me here while I gag slightly. Blargh.)

THIS way, with a dome instead of a "cave," the hair and "stuff" collects AROUND the drain, the water still goes down, it never gets on my feet. And later, when it's dry, I come in with a plastic fork and lift it off and throw it away. VERY little gack factor. No stink. No creepy slime. And I never, ever have to enter the Drain Zone.

Sure, it's held on with duct tape. Sure, there's a little bump in the middle of the shower that I have to be careful not to step on. But that's easy. I'm very easily addlepated...uh...adapted to such small things.

When it gets rusty-ish and too saturated with "stuff" that won't come up with the plastic fork, I just get a new one out of the cupboard and tape it down. Sometimes the duct tape is blue, sometimes it is white. I don't care as long as I never, ever have to fish around in the drain.

Dangerous Alaskan Animals

Animals don't have to be grizzly bears, or moose to be dangerous. Sure, you want to watch out for the big ones, and you certainly don't want to hit a moose, caribou or bear with your car. The moose never wins that confrontation, but sometimes the people don't survive, either.

Consider the lowly mosquito. You can drive into and through millions of them with no effect except a really messy vehicle, and you have to get out and clean the windows periodically. But how many times must I almost drive off the road because I'm trying to whack the little sucker? I'm an idiot, of course. I can ignore a mosquito when they are batting against the side window, I can ignore them when they are behind me and I can't see them, but if they are right in my viewing area they are dead meat. Unless I crash while smashing them. Then we are all dead meat.

It's been super hot here in the Interior, have you heard? Wearing long pants into town is not gonna happen. I'm wearing shorts because there are no mosquitoes in town. They are all waiting at my house to get the drop on me when I arrive at home.

I'm not making this up.

I just got back from town, started to get out of the car and WHAM a mosquito flew into my EYE. So of course in reaction to this I banged my knee on the car frame (emitting the appropriate words) and managed to stagger to the front door and slap about twenty mosquitoes off my arms and legs and feet and then fall into the house and slam the door.

Five minutes of further slapping and swearing and I'm mosquito-free. For now.

Of course it's too hot to leave my dogs in the car. They have to come into the house. They can't stay out there. I'm tough, I say. I can take it, I say. I'm an Alaskan, I say. I don't have to put on long pants. I can do this! I put down my purse and packages and prepare to dash to the car and get the dogs.

Only to see, just as I reach the back of the car, a HUGE hornet zoom up and start "smelling" the hatch that I have to open to get the dogs out. I wait. Doing the Slap Dance. Hornet is still sniffing sniffing. I know better than to wave at a hornet. Waiting and slapping, dancing, going ARRRGGHH and SHIT and DAMMIT and still the hornet is fixated on the SUV door hatch. Wait! It's landing and....trying to crawl under the crack of the hatch. Oh God.

RACE back into the house. Grab the household cleaner (Fabuloso!) in a spray bottle and sprayed that little fucker! He went, WHOA, what the heck? And fell off the car, got up and zoomed BACK TO THE CAR and I just let him have it a couple more times and he FINALLY zoomed away. Meanwhile my arms and legs are getting whiter from the amount of blood I'm losing to mosquitoes...

Grab the dogs and RAN back into the house. Smashed a lot of mosquitoes. I'm sure there will be more wandering around the house that I'll have to get.  I hate those little suckers!

If you wait around long enough I'll tell you what it's like to be in a vehicle with two predatory dogs and one very angry hornet.