I had a plan. I did everything right. Yet everything went wrong. In November when we changed the clocks to end Daylight Saving Time, Dad put new batteries in each of the smoke detectors, and Mom dusted and cleaned them. All in an effort to avoid that chirping noise they make when the batteries run low. I despise that high pitch beep. Well over the weekend, I was awoken from a deep sleep by that dreaded dying battery smoke alarm sound!
I immediately put my plan into action, and did what any dog would do for self-preservation. I began trying to dig a hole through my bed, through the tile kitchen floor, to escape that ear piercing noise. Thankfully, Mom heard me, or maybe it was the beeping, and knew it was time to enact my emergency plan. She came running to my rescue. Good thing too, because I had worked myself up into a frenzy and needed to get outside fast.
However, Mom was too late! Just as we reached the door to get outside to freedom, my nerves got the better of me, and I vomited directly in front of the door. We were trapped! There was no way I would walk through vomit, especially my own vomit, to get outside. Mom was not about to let us go down this way though. She grabbed a towel in the mudroom, tossed it over the offensive mess, and we ran into the serenity of the backyard.
Yet we weren’t out of the woods. Because someone literally had come out of our woods. In the strong winds of that blustery night, I could smell the faint scent of Asa’s skunk friend. Was he nearby hiding in our yard waiting for Asa? Or was he far away in the neighbor’s yard and it was just his smell being carried in on the wind? I couldn’t tell. But I could tell I needed to vomit again. You see unlike the unpredictable smoke detector batteries, I’m vey predictable and always vomit in threes. Mom stood by my side, shivering in the cold and squinting into the darkness, while I relieved my poor tummy. Sadly in the rush to get outside she forgot both her glasses and coat inside the house. Note to self: once things quiet down, I need to have a chat with Mom about being better prepared in an emergency.
Once I regained my composure I knew we had no choice but to go back into the house to rescue Dad and Asa from the dreaded chirping. Alright, I admit I did consider leaving them inside to fend for themselves, but Mom looked really cold. Besides, I wasn’t about to let a bad battery keep me out of my home! Over the vomit towel I leaped, and ran straight upstairs to alert Dad. Yes, Dad somehow managed to sleep through all this commotion yet again. How did he not hear that beeping? Or better yet my vomiting? I thought all humans respond to the vomit alarm. I knew this was an emergency, so I broke the No Dogs on the Bed rule and hurled myself up onto it to wake him.
Confused and groggy, Dad was brought up to speed on the situation by Mom, while I barked at each new chirp. They needed to figure out which of the smoke alarms had the defective battery and silence it. Still sleepy, Dad kept repeating that he just changed them. Well, yes Dad, but clearly the alarm doesn’t care that you bought “the expensive batteries.” And I also agree with you, Dad, that the battery should have lasted more than 5 months. But this is not the time to be having this debate!
It was at this point that I joined Asa in his room. I’m glad despite not knowing these events would unfold that Friday night, I had chosen to sleep alone downstairs. Asa would no doubt have slowed down my exit to freedom, by pausing to clean up my vomit. Speaking of cleaning up the vomit, Mom shut the door trapping me in the room with Asa, while she and Dad headed downstairs. This was definitely not part of my plan. How could I supervise from here? I could still hear Dad mumbling about recently changing the batteries, while Mom cautioned him not to step in the vomit. Meanwhile, Asa thought this was some sort of party. He grabbed his toy and started dancing around the room. Like Dad, he was also oblivious to the incessant beeping. Note to self: in an emergency, don’t rely on Dad and Asa to follow the plan or even acknowledge it.
Although I wanted to pant, I held my breath to listen, as Mom and Dad identified the offensive alarm. Soon the house grew silent. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. All was right in my world again. Well sort of, I remained trapped in the guest bedroom with Asa, who still thought this was a party, despite the fact it was past 2:00 AM.
