I remained up on my ledge look-out for another hour, until the razor-edged spikes of sunlight through the old pinon provoked streams of sweat from my already tormented brow. I called out one last time for my beloved Dave and received the same thundering silence as before. This little cat, you see, was the embodiment for me of all that was still good and virtuous remaining in this world. Had he been in human form, I would have been even more honored by his friendship and love. Could this little orphan who imposed himself upon our household now be gone forever, his blessed nature and influence suddenly vanished with his untimely and unexpected departure?
I finally resigned myself to this ultimate sorrow and made my way down through the shifting shale of the mesa face. As I rounded the corner to the Rat's front door, who was lying there in the shade of the moving trailer but my most beloved Dave. He did not speak or move and I wasted no time in scooping him up again on my flight to the Rat. I swung the door closed with my back and placed him down on the tiles to recover with Ming. I cannot adequately express the gratitude which I felt at that moment nor the release and weightlessness of my soul.
In the interim, the heart of the Rat had become a building inferno without the generator to power the evaporative cooler against the sun's heat. I decided upon extreme inactivity and a good book to weather the baking atmosphere. The siesta was indeed a practical invention against the heat of these desert days and I soon released myself into the ever welcomed amnesia of a deep and fairly pain-free sleep.
It didn't seem long before my mortal release was curtailed by the sound of Mark's truck and the excited welcome-home barks of Brou and Daisy. We hauled the Honda 3000EU back to its post as Mark filled me in on the shop's prognosis. The compression test results were within specs but the valves were well out of adjustment and the spark arrestor was full of oily carbon as I had suspected. They had their own suspicions that the confines of the metal doghouse had allowed the unit to draw in its own hot exhaust and thin its oil in the extra operating heat. Mark unpacked the mechanic dolly-like affair which he had ordered from Northern, leveled the Honda and rolled it with its exhaust outlet facing the open doorway of the doghouse. It fired up readily and ran well. Mark also brought home a one-size-smaller main jet to have on hand just in case. The shop readily acknowledged that we are their first off-the-grid test bed for the Honda, that the remainder of their generator customers are REALLY old fart RV types who may run their units 3 to 6 times a year.
One would think that this should have been ample events for one day in the middle of nowhere. Not! To be continued.
22 comments:
No one other than another pet owner can fully appreciate what they mean to each of us - they bring us through the worst of trials and low ebbs without uttering a sound just being there. So relieved you added at the end of first blog that Dave was okay. By the looks of all pets, it seems they are fareing quite nicely despite everything - big and well fed! Anxiously awaiting the continuation.
Thanks, Sue, I knew you two would be freaking out if I didn't add that last "Dave's okay" line. All the cats and dogs are in pretty good shape, maybe even spoiled, providing I don't take them out hiking in the noonday sun again until Fall.
Lin: I am so glad Save is okay. You should know to carry water with you on these forays into the heat. Now you say.... Yes mother
Yes, Mother Moose, you are so right again. I always remember the water just after I scale the mesa and collapse. I know that if I go back down, gravity will not allow me a second run at it. Then I will have four sets of eyes boring holes through me. Whaddya do?
Put at sign at the BEGINNING of the climb ......."DID YOU BRING THE WATER??"
Hi Lin,
Ah, you do have a way with words - ``old fart RV types'' had me chuckling.
By the way, I took your advice and have posted another ``personal experience'' narrative (albeit a short one) about Alzheimer's.
Good on you, Lin
David
Moose, that is a BRILLIANT idea! Extend the 'post-it note reminders' to beyond the Rat. This place will start looking like a BurmaShave sign run in no time flat with our memories.
David, oh naughty me but that "old fart RV types" comment is bait to see if a dear friend of ours is still checking in on the blog regularly. If that doesn't draw him out of silent lurking, nothing will!
I just read your newest post - I love your story-telling and this one is so loving and gentle on a subject which can break so many hearts and tarnish so many memories. So very nicely done.
Mother Moose...tee hee hee
Glad Dave is ok - he's such a pretty boy! I feel that way about my doglet - she is the embodiment of everything that's right in the world, for me. My sense of well-being and self is intrinsically tied to her. I guess she's my touchstone.
By the way, I love the avatar photo. If that's you, then you look just like you read: like a beautiful, kick-ass woman. Well done, you!
Now that you are pretty certain that VENTING is the issue, why not put an industrial-quality vent FAN, with louvers, in the wall of that "doghouse"?
I agree, even if it IS intended as a pun---than most people who purchase a commercial-quality generator very seldom EVER use it to it's full capacity!
What??? You thought I wasn't coming back? You should be so lucky.....!
Glad Dave is ok. Been there, done THAT. I remember one time we were looking for Female Offspring #1's cat, Buddha. We went outside and called and called and called, and he didn't come. Next day, the same thing. Only to find that the little brat was INSIDE sound asleep in my clothes basket! What irks me is that we were calling for him out the door of the very room he was in! I've come to discover that when cats don't want to be bothered, they ignore everyone;)
Babzy, you've got to meet up with Moose someday ... he's always been one lovable mother. And that's what his buddies always said.
Phlegmmy, that's you, me, my SILs and a ton of other people. The ones who really frost me are those who have beloved pets until kids come along and then the pet is yesterday's news. AwGawd, that hurts me to see.
Thanks, Phlegmmy ... I just got a blush run from the top of my head and down through my back. Life got real challenging right after that photo was taken and I lost that face more than once thereafter to physical trauma but the spirit of what she was is still kicking and scrapping when the creek don't rise TOO high.
Bruno! Where you been, boy? Just wait until I throw part 3 at you. I am relying on that hands on keen intellect of yours here to come up with some ideas. We are really at a completely frustrating stab-in-the-dark point here with those details that remain to be told.
The metal doghouse has TWO / 2" by 6" doors, one on each of its wide sides and facing each other. With its butt backed out the one door, it seems to be drawing in plenty fresh air through the matching opposite door on its intake side. This really becomes apparent by the complete lack of exhaust smell now in the addition which was enough to drop an ox (I often wondered why Daisy didn't keel over when she slept in the addition, it was that bad most of the time).
Goddess ... B-O-Y, do you KNOW cats or what?! Yes, both of them have had me to the point of complete desperation before, on MULTIPLE occasions. But when buffet browser Dave didn't rally when called with foodie thoughts this time, that seemed to be the ultimate test. Always a new raise of the bar with them, isn't it? I've got to admit that I started to use cat tolerance as ONE bench mark to rate prospective suiters; if they hated cats or just worked themselves into allergies over them, I knew they were immediate write-offs by hard-earned experience.
HAHAHA phlemgfatale said she liked the AVATAR photo of you and I've just spent the past few minutes hunting and searching for a picture of you standing beside an old biplane like Amelia Earhart the AVIATOR.. hahahA
NOW I see the picture she was referring to. Oh my you are very lady-like.
Oh Babzy, I thought I was the only one to have those moments ... avatar versus aviator. grin!
Myself, I enjoy photographic irony and sarcasm. I feel p-p-p-retty, oh so pretty ...
I suspect our plumber nicked our black cat! He and she got real cozy whilst he was over here, and she had a habit of jumping in to his van. I did almost accuse him, but realised even if he had, he was hardly likely to fess up, was he?
Still, I prefer to believe he has her than to consider the other possibilities..
Oh Shrink ... how heartbreaking to lose a little friend like that!!! We lost our original incredible black cat just before moving here and I left no stone unturned, even literally, in searching for him. If I were you, I would take a chance and call the plumber. It could be that your cat stowed away in his van, jumped out at a new locale and the plumber either didn't notice or was too embarrassed, or scared to tell you.
My next step would be to have the kid's schoolmates do some subtle spying around his house for any little black faces looking out the windows. Then I would post "Wanted" posters all over the island if need be. This worked for me the first time dear old Angus disappeared. Don't give up!
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