Sometimes the Good Lord will allow a poor man to lose his mule so he gets the happiness of finding it again.
This morning I woke up about five o'clock, rumbling thunder, thick sheets of rain. Wet, wet weather. Still dark. Couldn't go back to sleep - what was that blap-blap-blap sound?
Big fat drips. Oh, hello. Not a leaky roof. Not now. Geeyad, this is gonna cost. Shingles. Damn it all ta hell. Tired.
I hid under the covers. Life can be such a bitch sometimes. Mop. Carry wet stuff to the curb. Call the home improvement place. Shingles. Shit. Climb up on roof. Put tarp on for now. Lightning?
Then I noticed that this was not a blap-blap-blap-blap kind of sound. Water falling from a cieling would be more determined and inhumane, metronomic. No, this was more of a flup, flup, flup... and it was of a decidedly leisurely nature. There were pauses.
I poked my head out from under the covers.
Why, it was Ava (Ava is my dog Felix's dog-wife). And she was licking her monkey! Flup, flup, flup! She looked up, innocent as could be, smiled, wagged her tail, then fell to again, comforting herself in the aforementioned manner. She was certainly going to town on that . If she started doing that when there was company over, I'd tell her to stop.
So: The Roof Wasn't Leaking! Ava saved me probably the entirety of my economic stimulus package! Hooray for Ava! My new personal hero!
I got up and had a decidedly happy day. Rain and all.
