Last night blew chunks.
I got about four hours sleep because:
a.) two little boys needed help going to the bathroom three times during the night,
b.) I was up comforting Turken through 2, 3, or 4 bouts of coughing fits, (It's such a blur, I don't remember.)
c.) I had to save the lives of an opossum and two dogs.
What, is heroism in the name of animals a normal evening activity for you?
Last year, I came downstairs to get the kids' breakfast before school. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Roy trying to get under Hubby's car. Upon closer inspection, I also noticed a bunch of debris in the yard. And then I saw that Hubby's car didn't look quite right.
Full realization took a moment, but when it did, I feared for the dogs' lives.
Under Hubby's 2005 Honda Accord was an opossum. Teeth bared and completely alive. Scattered around the yard were pieces of Hubby's car. Two wheel wells were sticking straight out from under the car. The bottom runner of the car was on the ground. Some of it under the car, some of it in the grass. His car was in at least 20 pieces.
In their attempts to get to the opossum, the dogs had torn the car apart.
I told the kids to get their own breakfast, tied Roy up (Hershey goes wherever Roy does) and grabbed my camera, of course.
I then got to work fixing the car before Hubby saw it. I shoved what was left of the wheel wells back into place. I snapped what was left of the runners back onto the car. I gathered the pieces from around the yard. Too bad a car isn't like a vase. I couldn't just glue it back together and put it on a shelf, thus hiding the breakage until a later date.
Hubby was annoyed, to say the least. But, he didn't try to kill the dogs like I thought he would. He knew that the dogs were only doing what they did instinctually. Dogs don't know that cars are of value, and so shouldn't be killed.
We have never gotten the car fixed. We're just redneck that way. Sure, the car makes a funny noise when you get up to speed and the wind catches a loose piece of runner. And sometimes, when you turn the wheel just so, it snags on the broken wheel well and pulls it out so we have to stop the car and put it back in. But that's the way we roll.
So, at 2:30 last night, after I rubbed Vapo-rub on Turken and was in bed trying to go back to sleep, I heard the dogs barking in an odd manner. (They bark at all sorts of random, invisible creatures all night long.) I got up again to see what was up.
And I found Roy and Hershey trying to dig their way under Hubby's car.
Because there was an opossum underneath it.
Fortunately, I discovered them before any further damage could be done.
I woke Hubby, who held the dogs, while I moved the car.
All's well that ends well and all that jazz.
So, for those who are contemplating moving to the country based on my glowing revues of this easy life, I have a little tip.
If you are going to have outdoor farm dogs, make sure that the farm comes with a garage in which to put your cars.
Or only drive 12-passenger vans that a dog can get under without difficulty.
One of the two.
Have a lovely day!