L. Davidson, Home Security

While Sam and Lynnette are on vacation in Palm Springs, I have been appointed Chief of Security to insure their home and cat are safe. I'm also to water the plants in the front yard if needed. I take my job very seriously.

I couldn't remember if I last checked on Sunday or Monday, so I decided today I would run my security detail again. It's usually very quick - glance at the plants, get the mail, try to pet the cat, turn on a different light to fool would-be robbers, thieves, and catnappers, and empty the litterbox (although technically I was not asked to perform that duty, it's just an added service I provide). Today, though, was no ordinary patrol.

First, upon arriving at the premises, I noticed the front yard plants looking a little thirsty. I made a mental note to water them (my personalized checklist is still being printed up). I get the aforementioned mail, unlock the front door, go in, lock the door, and deposit said mail on the coffee table.

I looked around for Missy the grandcat, but did not see her. On my last visit, she did come to greet me and I did have a tender moment of holding her, but after about 45 seconds, Missy decided that Grand SheHuman had no special treats, and spent the rest of my visit under the table.

I decided to look for Missy later, and instead went about my Missy tasks - filling her floor water bowl with fresh water and removing her poops from her litterbox. Walking down the hall, I noticed she had deposited a bit of regurgitated lunch on the floor, and made another mental note to clean that up later. If you are keeping count, this is two mental notes, which pretty much fills up all the mental I have at this stage of life.

Anyhow, I scooped the poop, putting it into earth-friendly poop bags and depositing it into a trash can. My next goal was the watering of the plants, otherwise known as "Who Needs Old Faithful When You Have Sam and Lynnette's Water Hose."

I find a water spigot by the side of their house. I had already tried to enter the backyard from the front yard by the side gate, but Fort Knox had already been there and installed various locks and bolts requiring entry from the back yard. Basically what had happened was I unlocked the front door, went out, locked front door, went to the side gate, was refused entry, went back to front door, unlocked it, went in, relocked, went to back door, unlock, went out, relock, and went to side yard. Why all the locking? I am a home security expert, thank you. And paranoid.

Anyhow, I find the water source, attach the garden hose, and unwind it from the hose holder, noticing all the twists and turns and bends, feeling that this is not going to be pretty. I turn on water, and pull the hose to front yard, which takes a while since the hose keeps getting hung under the security gate. I finally get the hose to the flowers and water them. At one point, I look back at water spigot and notice water is beginning to spray out of hose connector that is connected to water spigot. By the time my water gig is done and I get back to water spigot, I have the Bellagio Fountains coming out of water spigot. There is no grass under the water spigot, so I also have a mud pit. I had neglected to bring rain gear, but I braved the elements and managed to turn off the water. I made the executive decision that if I had to water the plants again, I was going to do it on my terms, meaning Sam and Lynnette were going to get a new water hose and spray thingy. Although I considered just leaving the muddy twisted hose where I lay, my moral sense of right and wrong won out, so I dragged the muddy mess to the backyard, intending to dump it in a trash can or bag. If only there were one in the back yard.

So I decide look in the garage for a receptacle for the disfunctional hose. Of course the garage door is locked, which required more unlocking and locking. I found a garbage can. I do not know if the material in this can is recyclable or just plan trash, but it now contains a skanky old water hose. Now, back to house. On the way I notice plants in back yard. Do they need water? How can I neglect them when I gave attention to front plants? I almost let them parch when I think of using that hose again, when I see the rain barrel. It is full, there is a water can, so the backyard plants get a sip, too.

Having nearly completed all my tasks, I turn my attention to locating Missy the Cat and assessing her condition, should her parents ask about her. I put the key in the back door to unlock Lock #1, pull it out, insert key in Lock #2, open the door, and go in. However, key does not wish to come out of Lock #2. I twist and turn and shake and rattle and roll, but key refuses to budge. I ponder my options. I think I need some WD40. I do not know where this is kept, but I think maybe garage. Which is locked. And would need to be opened by the key that is stuck in the back door lock. Luckily, there is another key inside Lock #1 on inside of door. I remove, go to garage, unlock, look in entertainment center shelving unit, and find generic WD40. I go to back door and spray in lock, spray some more, jiggle, wiggle, spray some more. No budging. I return generic back to garage, and plan to lock, but no Key #2. Retrace my steps, can't find key. Brain is already full from mental notes, so I decided to keep retracing steps. Finally find key on path to garage.

Lock up garage, return to door/lock/key conflict. Continue to jiggle. Consider calling Sam, but since there is very little battery left in phone, don't think that is a good idea. Imagine phone conversation going, "Sam, we have a problem at your house ..." Dead air. Sam and Lynnette in panic, cancel vacation, come home, have me committed to mental ward. Decide on no call. Consider finding hammer and just knocking off part of key, leaving other part in lock. Think of dismantling entire lock, but think that might create security problem when I cannot reassemble lock. Get bright idea to use knife to help with jiggling key. Go to kitchen, don't know where knives are, so after extensive search, find knife (probably their favorite one), take knife to lock, jiggle, and finally key comes out. Of course what do I do then? Let well enough alone? No, I stick both keys in both locks just to make sure locks still work. They do, and I get another paranoid notch on my belt.

I wash off the knife, return it to drawer, and decide to clean up Missy vomit. Do not want to destroy ant eco system that has taken up residence on their new food source, so I gather it all up with a paper towel and throw it out in the back yard. I then go in search of Missy, who has taken up residence under the bed. I assure her that the plants will live, her toilet is fresh, and the locks are secure. I don't think she really cared, as long as I would hurry up and leave.

Which I did, only after locking the front door, going down the steps, and returning - just to make sure it was locked!