DIGGY

DIGGY (Written in 1986)

Our sweet little black dog ran away this year, but our grouchy little black dog stayed. The dog is a pain in the neck.

The dog claimed our house as his stopping place about five years ago. Diggy (I don’t know how he got his name) had no home and had befriended all the neighborhood kids and my husband. One rainy day he squeezed his little body against our back door and my husband said, “Let him in.”

I asked him, “Why do you want to keep an ugly dog like that?” I asked my kids, “How can you love a dog that bites your friends?” I asked the dog, “Can’t you go scratch your fleas somewhere else?” Finally I told myself, “Well, he’s so grouchy that I’m sure he’s a pretty old dog. Probably has arthritis. See? He even has gray hair on his face. He won’t be around for many years. I guess I can stand it.”

The vet said, “That’s not gray hair. That’s silver. And this right here is puppy hair. This dog is about six months old.

I said, “No.”

As time has gone along, I have gotten accustomed to the mutt’s weird habits. He barks at things he doesn’t understand – like grocery bags. Sometimes he barks at a plaque hanging in my kitchen. It’s always the same plaque, and it always hangs in the same place. It doesn’t move or make noise. It just hangs there. The dog gets mad at it or something. Who knows?

One day this week the TV and radios were blaring, my daughter was singing, and my son was playing a drum in his bedroom. Diggy started barking. Not at the drums. He was barking at the drum case sitting on the bed.

When the school bus rounds the curve in the afternoon, Diggy whimpers, moans, cries, and gasps. Click click click go his toenails down the hall. Clatter clatter clatter go his toenails in front of the door. Thump thump thump go his feet through the kitchen. By the time the kids come through the door he’s dancing the WahWahToosie on his hind legs.

I admit he is cute. He has even quit biting our friends. And how can you not like someone who sits on your feet when you’re typing?

Daylight Savings Time Warp

Let’s see. October. Spring forward, fall back.

Sunday and Monday went fine, but Tuesday morning I got up early and did some paperwork, cleaned up the kitchen, showered, ate breakfast, glanced at the clock and - Wow! The morning was just starting. This was great! Nancy was coming at 2:00, so I still had plenty of time to run errands and get back for a quick sandwich.

I hit the gas station and grocery store. Why was my watch showing 8:15? Oh yes. Daylight Savings time. I must have set it back instead of forward. (Somehow, I had reversed my understanding of “spring forward, fall back.”) That meant it was really 10:15. Didn’t seem quite right, but hey, who’s arguing? I still had time to go to the drug store and bank.

All finished with my errands, I looked at the car clock. 12:30. Hmmm. I knew I hadn’t reset that one yet. I’d better go ahead and push that little hour button one hour forward to 1:30. Oh my gosh! I needed to get home quick before Nancy got there at 2:00.

At home fifteen minutes later, the kitchen clock showed 11:45. I did reset it Sunday, didn’t I? I decided to check my cell phone. It’s the one clock I can rely on. OK. It really was 11:45. I had plenty of time before 2:00. I put away the groceries, made chicken salad, and had a great lunch.

The doorbell rang. I looked at the kitchen clock. It was almost 1:00. Nancy? I had forgotten we had changed the appointment to 1:00. I looked at my watch again - 8:15. I finally realized it wasn’t moving.

The next day I got a new watch battery. I thought it was interesting that the guy that replaced it set my watch one hour ahead. And he didn’t even know me!

Emails Aren’t Frivolous

I sat at my desk with the Business White Pages open, dialing numbers in hopes that someone would need a sign or a car wrap or a banner or something. I was still in the A’s. My 50-calls-a-day goal was fading fast.

Then I got a bite. Someone said he was thinking of ordering stickers. I started working on a quote and had to email Susan. She’s my daughter and salesperson and she is at her computer 24/7 and she answers fast. (Just like in person, come to think of it.) I asked her how to figure a price on stickers and she replied, “How many colors?” I emailed back and we continued the discussion which, with Susan, turned out to be a lot easier than a person-to-person discussion because she wasn’t able to interrupt me.

Between emails, I made another call. I was approaching the half-way mark on my goal.

Then Susan sent a funny email and I laughed and dialed another number, left a voicemail, then got a voice prompting me to “press one for a company directory.” I dialed another one, and shot a quick email back to Susan while I waited through several rings. She emailed back and I laughed again. I started sending emails a lot. I needed some laughs.

I used to think Susan was goofing off when she was alone at her computer laughing at what I called her “frivolous” emails. Now I’m a salesperson (or maybe a wannabe) and I know the rest of the story!