Kara goes to Town (but wishes she didn't)...
Kara has been in a bit of a funk the last few days. Nothing serious - she still works us all for Denta Stix, jumps on the couch and demand scratches, lopes around like a puppy at feeding time, crashes on her cloud and the likes - but a bit of the Kara spunkiness seems to be lacking. I thought maybe she was feeling a bit neglected, as things have been pretty busy around here lately and she hasn't been involved in much of it, so I thought I'd take her to Athabasca with Helen and I today when we picked up dog food.
Sure enough, when I headed for the door and called her to come with us, she bound out ahead of me. First she went to the van, but I walked by that. She then checked out Helen's shiny white car with the sunroof - that definitely met with her standards, but I walked by that vehicle too. She then focused on the dog truck, bound up the driveway and trotted around it waiting for someone to open the door for her, but we kept walking by that too. When I walked up to the old dog truck you could see the obvious disappointment in her eyes. In it's day the F250 was definitely up to her standards and she enjoyed many trips around Canada and the US in it, but now converted to a flatdeck, rusty and generally pretty beat up, it is definitely not. However, any trip was better then no trip according to Her Highness, so she reluctantly jumped into the back seat (yes, the back seat - also to Kara's dismay Helen got the passenger seat) and off we rumbled.
By the time we got to Colinton, where we stopped to fill up with gas, Kara was sitting pretty in the back seat enjoying the scenery - having all but forgotten the sad condition of her 'royal carriage'.
We filled up the tank, paid and hopped back into the truck. Kara was looking down her nose at the local dogs that weren't important enough to be chauffeured around when I turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened. Kara was confident this was just ineptness on my part and didn't even pay attention when I tried again. When nothing happened a second time, she got concerned. After all, this was her image we were now messing with.
Moments later when the hood went up and her drivers started checking connections, she started slouching in the seat.
Mark's advice over the phone sent Kara over the deep end - "That's what the hammer is for. Whack the terminals a few times and it'll start".
Sure enough, a couple smacks with the hammer and the engine turned cleanly over when asked.
We closed the hood and got back underway. I think Kara was hiding under an old blanket when we pulled out of town. This was not the type of vehicle a Queen should be riding in.
Without further incident we retrieved the dog food and made the drive home. Kara hopped out of the truck the second the door was opened. With a small glance over her shoulder and her poofy tail bouncing hautily in the air, she headed for the house and her fluffy cloud.
Karen
Sure enough, when I headed for the door and called her to come with us, she bound out ahead of me. First she went to the van, but I walked by that. She then checked out Helen's shiny white car with the sunroof - that definitely met with her standards, but I walked by that vehicle too. She then focused on the dog truck, bound up the driveway and trotted around it waiting for someone to open the door for her, but we kept walking by that too. When I walked up to the old dog truck you could see the obvious disappointment in her eyes. In it's day the F250 was definitely up to her standards and she enjoyed many trips around Canada and the US in it, but now converted to a flatdeck, rusty and generally pretty beat up, it is definitely not. However, any trip was better then no trip according to Her Highness, so she reluctantly jumped into the back seat (yes, the back seat - also to Kara's dismay Helen got the passenger seat) and off we rumbled.
By the time we got to Colinton, where we stopped to fill up with gas, Kara was sitting pretty in the back seat enjoying the scenery - having all but forgotten the sad condition of her 'royal carriage'.
We filled up the tank, paid and hopped back into the truck. Kara was looking down her nose at the local dogs that weren't important enough to be chauffeured around when I turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened. Kara was confident this was just ineptness on my part and didn't even pay attention when I tried again. When nothing happened a second time, she got concerned. After all, this was her image we were now messing with.
Moments later when the hood went up and her drivers started checking connections, she started slouching in the seat.
Mark's advice over the phone sent Kara over the deep end - "That's what the hammer is for. Whack the terminals a few times and it'll start".
Sure enough, a couple smacks with the hammer and the engine turned cleanly over when asked.
We closed the hood and got back underway. I think Kara was hiding under an old blanket when we pulled out of town. This was not the type of vehicle a Queen should be riding in.
Without further incident we retrieved the dog food and made the drive home. Kara hopped out of the truck the second the door was opened. With a small glance over her shoulder and her poofy tail bouncing hautily in the air, she headed for the house and her fluffy cloud.
Karen
posted by Karen Ramstead at
9:03 PM
2 Comments:
Sounds like my old truck
Looks like your blog has let me post a message. :-) jump up and down. I'm glad the glitch is repaired.
John
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