One of Those Days… Part 3

The saga of Monday still continues…

With Puppy somewhat cleaner and sleeping in a box retrieved from the dumpster, Jeff and I sit down to discuss our find. Of course we need to try to see if he belongs to someone. But he’s so stinking cute. “I’ve always wanted a dog” is a comment coming from Jeff. Maybe if he really is a stray, we can keep him. Oh, but Puppy is going to get big… really big. You can tell. Puppy will probably turn into a small pony by the time he’s done growing; with pony sized hairs falling off him all the time. But you don’t think about that when you look at a puppy. That’s how they suck you in.

It’s at this point the lights start to flicker. First they surge, then they dim. Jeff peers through the blinds and I see a bluish green glow and then there is a small explosion. My first thought: The camper is going to explode and we’re going to die. My second thought: The FEMA trailer 7 feet away is going to explode and we’re going to die. My third thought: New Orleans is being air-raided and we’re going to die. Why all these morbid, completely fanatical thoughts I don’t know, but after the small explosion the lights go out and everything is dark.

I realize we are not going to die, explode or be taken over. This is some relief to me as we light a couple candles. Jeff reports that he saw a transformer several hundred yards away explode in a magnificent array of sparks and flashes. Hmmm, interesting. There isn’t much more we can do now, since there’s no electricity and candles don’t give much in the way of task lighting. So to bed we go.

Snuggled under the eight layers of blankets I find myself thinking “What is this; a sitcom? Who has these types of days?” It’s kind of exciting. A baby, a puppy and now an explosion and blackout… does it get much better than this??

I start to drift off to sleep only to be started awake by the heart wrenching whimper of Puppy. Jeff gets up to check on him. Oh boy. This will go on for the rest of the night. It really has been one of those days.

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