Puppies & Cars & Things That Go //Ring// In The Night

The puppies, damn their happy little souls, went walkabout Sunday morning. They must have found something really neat to sniff up in the hills, and then something really neat to chase up in the hills, because they missed dinner. And then missed breakfast.

Stella, the black lab mix, showed up on someone’s doorstep about five crow-fly miles from the house. Mouse is still at large.

Bridgette & I chatted with the lady who captured Stella for a while, then pile into the car —

— which didn’t start. Without going into gory details, it appears that the starter solenoid is dirty or corroded and sticks part-way through, disengaging most electronic circuits without fully engaging the starter motor. Disconnecting the battery briefly corrects it…usually. Not last night. We finally got our SemiPermanent Houseguest (about whom, another time) to come give us a tow. Then the car started. Two minutes later SPH showed up to tow.

*sigh*

Learned that the problem is the solenoid this morning from a local automotive guru. Ten minutes later Bridgette called; she was stranded by the car, which wouldn’t start regardless of battery twiddling. The solenoid is getting worse, so…tonight I will be taking a nap when I get home, then removing the solenoid in the dark, cold, wet night, cleaning it, and reinstalling it in the same conditions. I am not looking forward to this, but at least I know what to do.

I wonder where Mouse is.


Cinderella called last night, and we spent a fairly rough 90 minutes on the phone. She is not having the most fun ever. I had no fix; I have the same problems she has, to a lesser degree. Bleah. Tomorrow, I will win the lottery, and all these problems (but the puppy) will be moot, and I will stay home and finish my book in the next eight weeks, and begin the second one.

Meanwhile, just for discipline’s sake, I’ll go work on that first book now.

19 thoughts on “Puppies & Cars & Things That Go //Ring// In The Night”

    1. Lost, as you say, puppies. Again, dammit.

      We live on the edge of BLM land, lots of hills and trees. The puppies are pretty safe wandering. But I wish, I dearly wish, that they could remember how to find their way home. Idiots.

      I mean, they can track the path of a rabbit, a deer, or my son carrying a cheese sandwich through ten miles of swamp, but they can’t follow their own stinky trails home? Grph.

      1. But I wish, I dearly wish, that they could remember how to find their way home. Idiots. lol. maybe, hopefully, they’re just on a really good trail, and are planning their safe return soon… 🙁 i suppose there’s some things that just smell so damn good, you have to go after them.

        hell, i’d follow your son carrying a cheese sandwich through swamp if i was hungry enough. 🙂

        1. Oh, lots of young women follow him around, even when he isn’t schlepping a sandwich. 6’1″, bright blue eyes, shoulder length blonde hair, and the echo of his father in voice & demeanor.

          It’s frightening, actually.

          1. well i definitely had a tiny child pictured… but this one sounds much more like something worth following through a swamp 🙂

          2. He used to be tiny….

            Seriously, the boy is a deviant, and hazardous to normal thought processes. To even speak his name is to invite the shattering of sanity and all semblance of normal behavior.

            Besides, he won’t be 18 until May.

          3. “the boy is a deviant, and hazardous to normal thought processes.”

            there are too many men in this world that fit that description 🙂

          4. Think Sir Galahad, but with different fashion sense. There seems to be no predatory impulses in him. He’ll pay for that, many times; my experience with normal people is, if you are relating to them, you must choose to be predator or prey.

            I dislike being prey and refuse to be predator; I relate to normal people only while wearing a mask. He is yet unjaded, and goes unmasked and unpredatory.

            YMMV, of course.

          5. females that are preditors are vile, and males that are preditors are dangerous.

            it’s so hard to find the place between preditor and prey and be an acceptable human being.

            i hope your son stays unpreditory… he can become a successful person via many other means.

          6. He’ll likely go a variation of the route his father took; he’ll just foster non-standard relationships with non-standard people, and do just dandy. Both of us are….

            I’ll illustrate our major commonality. Once, years ago, his mother was trying to demonstrate how horribly wrong I was for feeling things that I felt and not repenting for doing so. She cited the many people who disagreed with me. “If everyone in the worl disagrees with you,” she asked, “doesn’t that tell you something?”

            I thought about it. “That everyone in the world is mistaken?”

            The boy is like that, only moreso.

          7. sounds like a beautiful path.

            i think my problem, so far, is that i have been fostering relationships with people that are not my standard. i don’t know if they’re the non-standards ones or if i am, but somehow, we’re not compatible at this stage in the game. i have not been around the type or people that are who i need in my life.

            it’s a hard lesson to learn though; these people, who i’ve given so much to in the past 6, 7, 8 years, are not good for me… where does one go, then?

            “That everyone in the world is mistaken?” — this is what i’m trying to adopt. not in a, ‘i’m always right’ type way, but in the, ‘their morals don’t match mine’ way. it’s just hard to accept that there are people out there, people who you’ve let close to you, that just don’t respect you, or others.

            i guess i have to learn to believe myself. they say knowledge comes with age… hopefully i’m getting there.

          8. I think you’re doing just dandy. You’re conscious, which puts you miles above people like, oh, I’ll just pick someone…Steve and the people that idolize him. I mean that only as a for-instance.

            not in a, ‘i’m always right’ type way, but in the, ‘their morals don’t match mine’ way.

            It pleases me beyond all reason that you undestood that correctly. I am frequently mistaken, but I am usually doing the right thing for me. And, it sounds to me like you’ve been pretty much doing that same thing for you.

          9. Your Mileage May Vary. The disclaimer that permits everyone to have their own lives and find valid ways of experiencing them without being me. 🙂

  1. I’ve never had puppies. They seem like way too much trouble. Cats can at least take care of themselves. They like to stay out all night, but then so do I.

    1. Puppies are, in fact, way too much trouble. I deal well with cats and houseplants. And redheads, although the one I live with is higher-maintenance than the puppies.

        1. I just accept that a high death-rate is a normal part of houseplant existance, and try to make their last days appreciated ones. And, hey, I’ve found out which ones are the toughest plants around. 🙂

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