Stranger In The Night

It was just before 8:00 on Wednesday night. Still light, but overcast. Pepper started baying on the front porch. It was a WARNING sound. Not his usual bark. His true hound was coming out, whatever that half may be. Jack is more of a yipper. He joined in, but Pepper's was more of an AROOOOO! There was the sound of frantic scrambling feet. Eight of them!

We were near the end of Big Brother, but Farmer H got up to go look. That's how urgent this doggy response was. Farmer H opened up the front door, and stepped onto the porch.

"Pepper! HERE, Pepper! PEPPER! Come on, Jack!"

The baying and yipping continued. Sounded like it was going farther out into the front yard/field. Farmer H stepped back inside to grab my childhood BB gun. It's old! Because I'm a really old child. Not the pump kind of BB gun. Just a lever to cock, and it shoots a single BB. We keep it there to discourage unwanted critter who try to make the Mansion their home.

I heard a couple shots go PFOOT! The baying and yipping lessened. The dogs gallumped up on the porch. Farmer H returned.

"It's some boxer dog. Brown and white. I've seen it out here before, but I don't know who it belongs to."

"Does it have a collar?"

"Yeah, it has a collar."

"So it belongs to somebody. If it got dumped, they would have taken off the collar."

"Probably. He wasn't aggressive or nothin'. Not trying to fight. Just in the yard, and ours didn't want him there. I shot a couple times, but didn't hit him."

"I'm glad they're warning us. They'll just have to get used to him. I don't see a problem if he's not trying to come up here and fight them. They're just protecting their territory."

"Yeah. They just need to leave him alone."

"At least now I know what they're probably barking at during the night. Just a dog. Not some criminal trying to break into your truck or shacks."

I guess our dogs will eventually get used to this one. The first neighbors on the blacktop road, at the top of the hill from Mailbox Row, used to have boxers. That's my best guess. They've had several over the years. It's only a mile or less from there to here. I don't know if they keep their dogs in, or let them run. I haven't seen any for a while, but that's a good thing, because it means they stay off the blacktop road. 

Deadbeat Dilemma

Because I was commanded to call the questionable collection agency by Farmer H, I did so on Friday afternoon

Before even one ring, the phone was answered by a recording. It was a man with a southern accent (so I suppose it really IS in Georgia). He stated the name of the collection agency, and said that any information given WOULD be used to collect a debt. All calls are recorded. Then he said to stay on the line for the next available operator.

Eight rings later, I got a recording that said "...JACQUELINE... is not available to take your call. Please leave a message--" I hung up. I am NOT leaving a message with my name and phone number. Nope. No way am I giving them a way to call me. They might have my number on a caller ID, but what good does that do, without a name or reference number?

I'd had my info written down in front of me. I was NOT giving my name, only saying that I was Farmer H's wife. And the reference number. I wanted to know the DATE, FACILITY, DOCTOR/ANESTHETIST, and SURGERY. If they asked me anything else, I was ready to say, "I am calling to GET information, not GIVE information."

I called at 1:34.

I called at 2:10.

I called at 3:02.

Always the same messages, and JACQUELINE unavailable. It seems odd that they have only one person to take these calls. You'd think a collection agency handling claims from providers in multiple states might be a larger operation.

Anyhoo... I am still suspicious of this charge. You'd think that if the collection agency had Farmer H's address, then the anesthesia office would also have it, and would have sent multiple statements in an attempt to collect their $40.91 before turning it over to collections.

I believe the next step will be sending a letter to dispute the charge, asking for a copy of the original bill from the anesthesia office.

Really. It would be so much easier just to pay the $40.91 and be done with it. But I don't want to risk sending a check with our banking info to a scammer!

You Don't Know If You're Being Scammed, Or A Deadbeat!

Thursday's mail contained an envelope that looked like junk mail. It had other junky companions, yet also real mail, like our monthly statements from our financial investments. Of course I open all the mail to make sure I'm not missing anything important.

This one was in a plain window envelope. With a return address in Georgia. No stamp, just a printed "First Class Mail, Presorted, Postage Paid, Mailed From Zip Code 44711, Permit No. 1377." Nothing especially remarkable about the appearance.

Inside was a one-sided paper. Thin paper. Which stated it was from a DEBT COLLECTOR!

Well. That was disturbing. We pay all our bills. WHEN WE GET THEM. Supposedly, this was a debt from an anesthesia group. I've never heard of it, but Googling showed that it has offices in several states, and one in St. Louis. Farmer H has had several surgeries over the years. We've gotten bills from doctors and radiologists and anesthetists. It's not unreasonable to think that this bill might be legitimate.

However, there was no date. No location. No doctor. No type of surgery. Just a Reference Number. And a total debt of $40.91. 

Also, details that between June 1, 2026, and now, we were charged 0 interest and 0 fees. There were payments in the amount of 0. And adjustments in the amount of 0.

Also, this collection agency is giving us until August 27, 2026, to dispute all or part of the debt. If we write them, they must stop collection until they send us information that shows we owe the debt. We can include supporting documents. They also accept disputes electronically at a website.

At the bottom is a form that can be cut off (no perforation) to send back. 

Check all that apply:

*************************************************************

I want to dispute because...

This is not my debt. 

The amount is wrong.

Other (please describe on reverse or attach additional information)

I want you to send me the name and address of the original creditor.

I enclose this amount $ _____________.

Make checks payable to: [name of collection agency]

**************************************************************

It would be so easy to write a check for $40.91 and be done with it. HOWEVER... I don't know if we owe this amount or not. We never got any bills from any anesthesia group that we didn't pay. It would be odd that such a debt got turned over to collections without multiple attempts to notify us of the bill.

Also, we've had a couple notices this year that our medical information was breached. Maybe this is just a scammer trying to get money or personal information. A check would give them our bank account number. 

I looked up the collection agency. They are not registered with the Better Business Bureau. Which AI says can be a red flag for scams. 

Farmer H wants ME to call and try to find out more info. I say they probably won't talk to me, since his name is on the account. Then again, he would be more likely to give personal information than I would. So I guess I can give it a try. JUST to get the date, location, surgery, and doctor. Then we will know if it's actually something we might owe.

There We Went Again

Wednesday evening, the news was finishing up right before I had Farmer H's supper ready. I walked past his recliner, seeing a story about the Kansas City Chiefs football team's stadium going back to its original name of Arrowhead Stadium.

"Oh. I thought they were moving to Kansas."

"They ARE. They're building a new stadium there."

"Well, there goes a bunch of revenue, lost for Missouri!"

"No. It's 3 billion dollars, and Kansas is paying."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You said, 'There go a bunch of revenue bonds.'"

"No. I said IT'S REVENUE LOST FROM MISSOURI! From all the ticket and concession and souvenir money that people would spend, and the hotels and restaurants."

"Oh. I thought you were talking about the bonds to pay for the stadium."

"You are a lot of work!"

I think Farmer H needs a 3 billion dollar set of hearing aids.

Listening To Me But Not Hearing Me. Again.

Tuesday, I made a meatloaf and green beans with bacon and potatoes for Farmer H's supper. It's more convenient for me to make them late morning/early afternoon. Before I go to town. Then I can warm them up when Farmer H decides to come home. I don't get (quite) as annoyed like when I plan on having it ready at a certain time, and he's not here. Plus, Tthe house smells really good for the afternoon. 

I was in the bathroom changing from town clothes to Mansion clothes around 4:00 when Farmer H showed up. He was in his recliner when I came out.

"Did you smell the meatloaf?"

"I was too busy to vote today."

"Um. Okay. But that has nothing to do with what I just asked you."

"I thought you asked me did I vote?" 

[There were just a couple of amendments on the ballot]

"No... I asked if you smelled the meatloaf."

"Heh, heh! I DID smell the meatloaf when I come in. It smells good."

Farmer H really enjoyed the meatloaf. Much more than he would have enjoyed voting.

A Cold And Dark As Mrs. HM's Heart

Friday evening, I got food out of FRIG II's freezer to prepare Farmer H's supper. He was having fish and waffle fries. He was offered mixed vegetables with cheese melted on top, but turned them down. "Nah. I had vegetables for lunch." Because, you know, having vegetables twice in one day would be senseless, and only a feat attempted by somebody who DON'T KNOW NOTHIN'!

Anyhoo... that meal used up the rest of the waffler fries, but I had fish left in the bag to put back in the freezer. I opened the door, and IT WAS DARK! The light bulb had burnt out between me getting out the fish and putting it back. I told Farmer H.

"Huh. I don't have no idea where that light is. Or what size. I guess I'll have to take a look at it." Which of course he jumped up and did, right? WRONG! He kept sitting in his recliner. Then ate supper. Then came to the kitchen for dessert. Then went to bed.

The next day, I brought Pony out for a Saturday of game-playing. I mentioned the dark freezer, because I figured The Pony would be getting ice. Farmer H came home around 5:15. Went straight to the recliner.

"Dad? Do you want me to see what kind of light the freezer needs?"

"You can."

The Pony looked all around. The bulb was not visible. I'd already been looking a couple of times. The Pony pulled out the big bin that holds the ice cubes. The light was behind there. The Pony unscrewed it, and took it to Farmer H in the recliner.

"Huh. I'll have to see if I can find one."

As I type, this is Tuesday afternoon. FRIG II's freezer is still as cold and dark as my heart. Farmer H DID move that burnt-out bulb from the table beside the recliner to a cap lying in a box on the chair by the kitchen door. 

It's still there. I figure today is not the day I'll be getting light in FRIG II's freezer.

Something Has Been Eating At Me

It's my own teeth! I noticed when it happened, but I had no idea of the aftermath.

Farmer H came in Friday evening, and asked if I hurt my face. Since he was born without a funnybone, I was pretty sure he wasn't pulling that old joke where he'd then add: "Because it's KILLIN' ME!" So I said that no, I didn't think so.

"Well, your lip is all bruised."

"Oh. You mean right here? IS it? Because last night, I bit my lip inside right there. So I guess it's just showing the bruise on the outside now."

Indeed, when I looked in the mirror, it was a frightening sight. More frightening than usual!

I zoomed in close so you didn't have to bear the full horror of my scarecrow hair and wrinkly face. This is actually my left lip corner, but the phone camera reverses it when I take my own picture. It's like I'm looking into the mirror.

The Pony noticed on Saturday. We went in Country Mart that day. I went to get scratchers on Sunday. Nobody said anything to me. I'm sure they were curious. But maybe they thought I had been in a fight, heh, heh, and didn't want to take a chance on me opening up a big can of whoop-rumpus on them!

Anyhoo... it's not like I was even eating something good when this happened. Just an apple. A nice crisp red Sugar Bee apple. Oh, and since then, with the swollen area, I have chomped down about a dozen more times. No wonder it's taking a bit of time to heal.

I'm not letting it curtail my activities. Those scratchers aren't going to buy themselves.