Stupid Human

I am currently dog and cat sitting for my parents who are enjoying themselves on the Italian Riviera. I sprung Gretel, the miniature Schnauzer, from the vet's yesterday and will be taking her back later today; hopefully it broke up the monotony of cage life a little bit. Blueberry, the 19 year old cat, is also quite glad to have company, though she would surely be happier to have Gretel still in the kennel. Blue was frankly thrilled when all of the other Beall pets died, leaving the house and humans all to her, so she really is not happy when she has to share with the young, wild pup.

I was looking forward to a lazy evening here last night, so I threw on some PJs and headed out in the garage to scope out the wine and food. I selected a couple things and headed back in, only to find that the door was locked. Normally, the door connecting the garage and house is never locked since people are frequently going between the two, so I had not even thought about it when I closed it behind me. And, of course, I had locked the front door and had no shoes on. My car keys and phone were also inside. Great. I tried to open the front door by inserting cardboard between the door and frame, but no luck with that.

I decided that the cat door on the locked door would be my only hope, so I proceeded to lie on my back with my arm through the cat door (and Gretel whining on the other side) and use numerous objects to try to turn the nob on the other side: a hammer, a mallet, a running shoe, a sock, pliers, bungee cords. After numerous failed attempts, I was pretty frustrated, but still found it amusing when I looked up to see a deer just outside the garage, watching me flail about on my back in my apple print pajamas and stocking feet. He was literally fifteen feet from me, just watching me, and probably thinking... "stupid human."

As a last attempt, I removed the cat door (thank goodness I was in a garage with a bunch of tools, not that I know how to use 98% of them), hoping it would give my short arm just enough leverage to turn the nob. My fingertips barely brushed it, but after a few minutes of trying, I was able to get it to turn. Thank God. It would have been so embarassing to have to call someone.

Ted and I are going to Seattle again this weekend for another cyclocross race. Someone told me last weekend that I didn't look like I was having fun while racing; after watching a few other races, I realized that no one looks like they are having fun while doing cyclocross.