When I saw the heating-and-cooling van come up the driveway, I hung up on absent Farmer H. I hobbled to the door, expecting a dude to be climbing the porch steps. Nope. I stepped out. The van was behind the carport, driver's door opening. My Sweet, Sweet Juno stood in the driveway watching, wagging her feathery tail. She wasn't even barking! I guess she saves her energy and vocal cords for those 2:00 a.m. gallops around the porch, baying like the British are coming.
The passenger door opened, and a guy stepped out, saying, "I'll go knock on the door." Huh. I was RIGHT THERE! In front of the door. I must be so slim that he didn't see me in profile. Probably bad eyesight. It's not like I have to run around in the shower to get wet.
As Dude 1 came up the brick sidewalk, I said, "There might be two more dogs show up. One isn't ours. They'll bark, but they haven't bitten anyone. The unit is around back, on the ground level. I can let you come through the house, out through the basement." That's what the other guys did. Came traipsing through the house, out the basement door, then back in sometimes to look at the main part in the basement, and upstairs to fiddle with the thermostat.
Dude 1 looked down at his workboots. It had been raining off and on. "No, that's fine. We'll walk around." He went back to the van to get some tools.
I went back in the Mansion, expecting to wait while they fiddled around. Then I heard COPPER JACK! Sweet Gummi Mary, that's not good! I went back to the front porch. Copper Jack was in the front yard, hackles up (more noticeable now that he was a beige canvas collar), woofing like a Broadway star trying to reach the cheap seats.
Dude 2 trailed across the yard toward the BARn end of the Mansion. He kept one eye on Copper Jack. "So that's the neighbor dog?" asked Dude 1.
"Yes. He barks at ME like that, when I come down my own driveway!"
Dude 2 looked like I would look, if I accidentally drove to California and steered T-Hoe up the on-ramp of the 405. "So it's okay to chuck rocks at that one?"
"Well, yeah. If he comes after you. I don't expect he will."
Some people just don't like dogs. Some people fear dogs. And some people may be previous dog-bite victims. It makes me no nevermind if Copper Jack gets pelted with rocks for bad behavior. That'll learn 'im to have some manners. We'll be just as liable for damages if he bites someone on our property, no matter whether he belongs to us or not. Good thing we have that umbrella policy!
Still, I didn't want Copper Jack distracting the H/C men. It's not like I could call him over. That dog does not like me! ME! The supplier of his daily treats! Copper Jack took off at a trot, following the H/C guys once they rounded the corner of the Mansion, barking his fool head off.
"JACK! NO! BAD DOG! JACK!"
Copper Jack stopped and looked at me like I had lost my mind. Unfortunately, my own little Jack had come up on the porch, never once barking, and was standing with his front paws on my thigh, being petted like a GOOD DOG. The yelling at Copper Jack made him cringe and tuck his ropey tail between his muscled hindquarters.
"No...not YOU, Jack. You're a good boy! It's okay."
BAR-AR-AR! BAR-AR-AR! Copper Jack took that as permission to re-enter beast mode.
THEN my Sweet, Sweet Juno came to the door, hacking and wretching like Marley with the whooping cough! So I had to pat her on the side, and sooth her, and watch a little foamy spit drip to the porch boards. I suppose that earlier, when I gave her some grease bread, she ate a piece of the cedar shavings from her doghouse floor along with it.
Did I mention that I resent Farmer H for scheduling this appointment, and not being there?
The H/C men turned out to find NO leaking Freon. They said they'd contact Farmer H, and got in their van and left! Didn't even ask for payment!
I sat on the front porch pew as they were leaving, petting Juno and Jack, while Copper Jack backed off and watched them suspiciously, with a less menacing bark, as if to say, "See? I warned you, didn't I? Go on. Run away like a couple of scaredy-cats. And don't come back!"
Juno got a plain slice of Nutty Oat bread to help wash down the possible cedar chip.
Farmer H came home and opened up the part of the HVAC that's in the basement. He said he washed the coil and rinsed off the mesh filter. The heat has been running normally, kicking off and on. Farmer H says we probably won't get a bill for the house call.
What a handy handyman Farmer H is! You should reward him somehow for the feat of technology (not to be confused with a feat of strength) he performed....
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteI will reward him with a pencil to write the date on the door of the HVAC unit when he changes the filter! He used to do that, until tweenage Genius (helping) was heard to exclaim, "It's been FIVE YEARS since you changed the filter!"
I asked this time, but Farmer H said, "Oh, I stopped writing it down a while ago." SURE he did...
Aha! washed the coil and rinsed off the filter. That's what I would have done before calling in the experts. Of course I can't actually get at the coil in my wall air conditioner, but I can run it on Cool for a while to get it damp, then run it on fan for a half hour to dry off the moisture. Mostly I just take out the filters and give them a good cleaning about three times a year.
ReplyDeleteI don't like the idea of anyone chucking rocks at Copper Jack, that might just enrage him enough to really get going and bite someone. Some dogs are like that, hurt them and they'll hurt you right back.
Farmer H does not maintain the filters in a timely manner. I guess he ASSumed the problem was the usual Freon depletion. That's easier than cleaning a filter!
ReplyDeleteCopper Jack is an odd duck. He seeks petting from Farmer H! And Genius the stranger when he visits. Yet he shies away from me, even though I am the one who gives him treats! If he charged at me while barking, I would not hesitate to chuck a rock at him! Standing his ground and barking is okay, but once he makes a move, the battle is on!
Perhaps he was once badly treated by a woman owner. My niece has a rescue dog that is fine with her and her son (almost 7) but avoids her male partner who is a bit of a bully with her. With the dog that is not with my niece.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteThat's a good theory! Now that I think about it, all the people Copper Jack comes to for petting are men or Pony.
I can't imagine he would have been mistreated by our neighbor woman. Copper Jack was adopted as a pup by our man neighbor who works for the city street department. A coworker found a litter of abandoned pups, and they all took one home. So maybe Copper Jack was mistreated during his formative days, and still carries that fear.