Cold Water & A Dog

A week ago we had high winds and rain move through the neighborhood in the evening, followed by the loss of power for around six hours - nothing like having the lights pop on at 4:00 am both to surprise and disorient you.

The experience made me realize that I wasn't very well prepared for these irregular occurrences, so the next day I created a "lost power box," which included a crank radio, flashlights, batteries, candles, matches - come to think of it - I should have added a bottle of single malt for purposes of emotional adjustment.

The next day I realized that something had gone wrong with the supply of hot water in the house, so I wandered down to the basement (my own version of Dante's Hell) and noted the boiler pressure was lower than usual. I took the necessary steps to add a little water to bring the pressure up and was startled when the relief valve blew and water started pouring into the basement...and I couldn't stop it.

Ultimately, I cut all the power to the boiler and closed every valve within reach, and the flooding ceased. For a variety of reasons, mainly having to do with a very complicated schedule, I postponed the appointment with the boiler repair person for several days.

In the hot and humid July we've had, the cool water "bath" next to the sink wasn't effective but it was sporadically amusing, and Islay the scotty and I coped reasonably well. As the week wore on I became accountably grumpy - wet basement, uncomfortable weather, no hot water - oh, and I'm not getting any younger, by the way.

The morning I was my grumpiest, I dragged myself out to the car with Islay in tow. As we got underway, she took up one of her favorite positions, sitting on the console, facing front, and ears up, her eyes sweeping from left to right on the lookout for barking opportunities and the like.

I might be bummed, but Islay was not.

In fact, she never is. Life is a smorgasbord of opportunities for her, and she wants to take advantage of as many as she can. She addresses life with perpetual enthusiasm and good humor and reminds me of a friend who has had more than his share of troubles and who if you inquire about his well-being always responds, "Excellent!" Once I asked him about his response, and he asked me, "What choice is there?"

Good questions, and the dog had a better answer than I did. For the moment, I've realized that I'll be better off, if I just follow the precepts by which the Islay the Scotty lives. What's more, I think she knows full well that she is a good model for me and no doubt is pleased that I finally figured it out.

Turns out learning can take place in the oddest places and circumstances...for which I am grateful.