A blog about life experience and inexperience, written by Dallea Caldwell.
“If you think your life is a hassle, adopt someone else’s.”
Kuma misses mommy and daddy.
You never realize how much goes into running a home until you’re charged with the task of running someone else’s. Right now, a good friend of mine is out of town, and her bear-faced, lion-haired Kuma is whimpering for my attention — his pouted snout clutching a stuffed squirrel. The recycling bin is 3 days too full. The tomatoes look thirsty, but the strawberries are apparently drowning. On the dining room table, beneath a bag of dried apricots — strategically placed to lure me to my doom like cheese on a mousetrap — lies literally 2 and a half pages of instructions for my temporarily adopted life.
– Kuma goes for a walk around 9 am and 7:30 pm
– Indoor plants: water once daily
– Outdoor plants: water if it hasn’t rained in 3 days
– Kitchen stove light stays on 24/7
– Expecting a package, neighbor may have already signed for it
– Almost forgot… Kuma lost much of his hearing and has a bad hip
– Blah, blah, blah
– Blah, blah
– Blah
– Bla
– ah
– B
I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. At least I finally got inside. Last week, when I showed up to walk poor, lonely Kuma for the first time, the key — hidden in a super-secret, disturbingly obvious location which I dare not utter — jammed in the top bolt lock. I couldn’t get inside, and the little poop machine was surely about to burst after a night alone.
She was probably sleeping in during this much needed vacation with the husband and kids, because my friend didn’t answer my calls or respond to text. I tried the door again after lubricating the key with some coolant from their neighbor’s 2nd story A/C. No easy task, collecting the drops was like playing receiver with a blade of grass and a dollop of honey. The key still didn’t seem to fit.
Then, I went into crisis mode…
Furry senior citizen with multiple disabilities trapped inside abandoned building unable to care for himself; What are my options? Call the fire department. No, that’’s for cats in trees. Break the window? Too pricey to fix.
But, there’s always testing out the Talk Local locksmith function. And then maybe get a vet to treat Kuma’s post-traumatic stress following this terrifying ordeal, which will undoubtedly leave him with a life-disrupting fear of enclosed spaces. Poor thing.
With a plan in place, I had no choice but to go on with my day and handle some errands while I waited for a response from the homeowner (maybe there was a second key beneath a trap door).
Eventually she reported back that her husband, being a classic husband, locked the top lock by mistake assuming that everyone shares his 10 inch diameter forearm. One trick she suggested was coloring the key’s jagged edge with a soft pencil — the lead, she claimed, is an excellent stand-in for WD-40.
I brought a pencil and a spoon when I tried the door again. This time, placing the convex side of the spoon against the key to protect my hands, I was able to shove the sticky metal with my full weight and open palm and get inside. Not without a bit of wiggling, swirling, and lifting of course — everyone has at least one lock that’s more fickle than the combination to a high school locker.
So, before you talk your friend into house sitting for you, how about you visit www.talklocal.com for a handyman to get that door fixed. And, remember to leave your friend lots of candy…and tell them where the can opener is…. and stash a spoon next to the spare key outside… and… send them the link to my(Mis)Adventures to pass the lonesome hours!
Till next time… enjoy the adventure.
