Boy can I relate to this!
Brian Whitworth of Mesa, Arizona
I turned thirteen in September, making me about ninety in dog years, so I’ve got a few miles on me. But this story isn’t about me, it’s about my human. As humans go, he can fix about anything: doors, windows, faucets, sprinklers, dog collars . . . you name it, and he’ll take a wrench to it.
Last Labor Day was water heater day, a good time to change out the bad heating element in the bottom of the tank. The first hour of a project is always cool resolve . . . and tool gathering, lots of tool gathering . . . and coffee. Next: electricity off, no Einstein hair today. Then of course the ceremonial dragging of the garden hose from the backyard, into the front driveway, through the garage and connected to the water heater drain spout. Notice the calm rhythm and the air of confidence. At this point I usually move in for a quick tummy scratch while the mood is still upbeat.
Next: shut off the water, but first make sure Momma and the girls aren’t in the shower – lesson learned. Now just open the drain spout, and out it will pour; through the hose, down the driveway and into the gutter. Time for a quick cup of coffee while the contents of the fifty-gallon tank rush into the street. But wait, what’s that? A quick look down the drive shows that the predicted cascade of water is instead a very slow dribble. The look on his face says that is not the expected result.
Troubleshooting mode now. Open the faucets in the kitchen and bathroom, then walk to the end of the driveway to observe more dribbling. Consternation. Mess with the drain valve to make sure it is open. More coffee and time to mow the lawn. More dribbling. Lunch. More dribbling. Maybe the water level has at least dropped below the top heater element. If he can just loosen the top element a bit to release the vacuum … ow, ow, ow, oh, hot, ow . . . ah, nuts and chestnuts! Flood control mode. Now everything is running, even my human. Run, Master, run. The water is running down the driveway, so also the newspaper and my dog dish. I guess the plan worked, as the hose is running better, too.
Things are moving along good now, as soon as he gets the garage mopped up we should be able to finish this project and go for a walk. New element in, wires reconnected, hose removed and dragged to backyard. Time to refill the tank and turn on the power. Water supply on, close faucets in kitchen and bathroom, step back to the garage to check for leaks . . . quick, close the drain valve!! Flood control mode. Just a little more mopping and he should be ready for our walk. Maybe next week I’ll help him tackle that ceiling fan replacement.
I turned thirteen in September, making me about ninety in dog years, so I’ve got a few miles on me. But this story isn’t about me, it’s about my human. As humans go, he can fix about anything: doors, windows, faucets, sprinklers, dog collars . . . you name it, and he’ll take a wrench to it.
Last Labor Day was water heater day, a good time to change out the bad heating element in the bottom of the tank. The first hour of a project is always cool resolve . . . and tool gathering, lots of tool gathering . . . and coffee. Next: electricity off, no Einstein hair today. Then of course the ceremonial dragging of the garden hose from the backyard, into the front driveway, through the garage and connected to the water heater drain spout. Notice the calm rhythm and the air of confidence. At this point I usually move in for a quick tummy scratch while the mood is still upbeat.
Next: shut off the water, but first make sure Momma and the girls aren’t in the shower – lesson learned. Now just open the drain spout, and out it will pour; through the hose, down the driveway and into the gutter. Time for a quick cup of coffee while the contents of the fifty-gallon tank rush into the street. But wait, what’s that? A quick look down the drive shows that the predicted cascade of water is instead a very slow dribble. The look on his face says that is not the expected result.
Troubleshooting mode now. Open the faucets in the kitchen and bathroom, then walk to the end of the driveway to observe more dribbling. Consternation. Mess with the drain valve to make sure it is open. More coffee and time to mow the lawn. More dribbling. Lunch. More dribbling. Maybe the water level has at least dropped below the top heater element. If he can just loosen the top element a bit to release the vacuum … ow, ow, ow, oh, hot, ow . . . ah, nuts and chestnuts! Flood control mode. Now everything is running, even my human. Run, Master, run. The water is running down the driveway, so also the newspaper and my dog dish. I guess the plan worked, as the hose is running better, too.
Things are moving along good now, as soon as he gets the garage mopped up we should be able to finish this project and go for a walk. New element in, wires reconnected, hose removed and dragged to backyard. Time to refill the tank and turn on the power. Water supply on, close faucets in kitchen and bathroom, step back to the garage to check for leaks . . . quick, close the drain valve!! Flood control mode. Just a little more mopping and he should be ready for our walk. Maybe next week I’ll help him tackle that ceiling fan replacement.
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