Thursday, February 9, 2012
Doggone Dogs And Doorknobs
Let's set the stage. My two boys were in their normal rambunctious state, just prior to going down for the night. One very tired Mrs. Geek asked a favor of me. In her most humble of voice, she asked if I would "have a heart" and let her dog in when I came to bed. (I use the title of "her dog" for a variety of reasons; longer than I could get into in this post)
At about 1:30 am, I remembered my promise, and feeling a bit tired myself, made my way back to the back door to let him in. I unlocked the latch and turned the knob, with no perceptible result. The door remained stubbornly closed. Deeming myself to be more intelligent then a doorknob, I kept trying various ways to get it open. Despite all of my probing, prodding and pulling, the lock remained firmly in place. Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
It is important to note, that her dog, as well as the juvenile delinquent neighbor dog (one who was slated for a "deportation" of sorts after killing one of their chickens) was pawing at our back door and whining in empathy for my struggle.
Time for some proper tools. Where's the screwdriver? I knew that I could ask my wife and she would be able to tell me fairly easily where I could look, but the Sir Galahad in me would not allow me to disturb her peaceful slumber. After multiple looks in all the usual hiding spots and traveling past the quizzical looks from our cats, I found my prize.
One phillips head screwdriver later, and I started work on the obnoxious doorknob with a renewed fervor. I was a flurry of tightening, loosening and poking. It was obvious that my nemesis was winning this battle. I resorted to taking off the inside knob completely, but the halfway dismantled apparatus defiantly resisted every attempt of mine to dislodge it.
Having labored for at least forty minutes, it was time for plan B. Traveling through the house to the front door, I decided to retrieve our little friend the long way (which obviously in retrospect, would have been the shorter way).
Separating the aforementioned juvenile delinquent from Mrs. Geek's very jealous dog, I was able to lead him to the front of our house. Opening the door wide and in hushed tones, I encouraged him to go in. No go. Just a blank stare. More pleading, he just plodded back towards the back yard again. Uggghhhhhhh! Not wanting to raise my voice (which is something I am sure my sleeping neighbors would appreciate after 2:00 am) I walked to the dog, hoisted him like a sack of potatoes, lugged him back into our home.
From there, he promptly ran with breakneck speed to our bedroom, bounded to the bed, and did what could only be likened to a WWF dive from the ropes onto my wife's seeping form. Groggily, she awoke to my apologies for waking her up. She turned to me smiling and said...
"You know, if it was me, I would have just made him stay outside."