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Feb. 16th, 2007 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oakenguyDOORS
A tale of woe in two acts.
Act One: We have a little fenced-in yard with a gate. One of the perks of having a small, portable dog is that at times when a full walk isn't an option, it's easy to just lift him over the fence and place him in the yard. He sniffs the bush, does his business, we both stroll over to the gate, I open it, we promenade back inside. Total elapsed time, two minutes.
Last night in the freezing cold we did this. Or tried to. When we got to the gate and tried to open it, though, we noticed for the first time that it was FROZEN SHUT. Toby was trapped. I was the worst dog owner ever.
I ran back into the house and sprinted through the apartment to our little-used side door. It hadn't been shovelled, so what were normally the four concrete steps leading up to it had been turned into a dome of ice and snow. Normally daunting, but with my dog at stake I hacked into the ice with my heels, cutting a safe path down so I could get to Toby...who was back in the front yard, terrified. He'd heard the hacking noises and heavy breathing and hell NO was he going anywhere near that side door, didn't I know there were serial killers back there? I had to pick him up and carry him inside, his little claws sunk into my shoulder as he readied himself to jump free the second they pulled me down.
I shut the door and locked it from the inside. (This will be important in Act Two.)
Act Two: We, as I'm sure many households do, have a Monster Door. It's really just the door between the living room and the rest of the house, but when the doorknob fell off on one side D realized it could be a crucial line of defense between us in the bedroom and the monsters who make it past the front door, so we never fixed it. Instead we close it each night right before bed, sealing the living room off from the rest of the apartment. And then we lay down caltrops.
No, just kidding. (We can't find any caltrops.)
Anyhow, last night, about a half hour after Act One, the pizza delivery driver rang our bell and my dog, of course, went ballistic. To keep him out from underfoot I shooed him into the next room and pulled the door--the *Monster Door*--ajar. At which point, as sure as toast falls butter-side down, he pushed it the rest of the way shut.
PARTIAL LIST OF THINGS USED IN ATTEMPTS TO GET THE DOOR TO OPEN:
*A disposable razor
*String
*A shoelace
*Soap
*Telekinesis
*Shoving
*Scissors
In the end![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
discojesus discovered that the narrow end of my kazoo, slid into the proper aperture and twisted, would open the door. It's still sticking out of the door, just in case I need to use it again.
The way things have been going, I have a hunch that I will.
A tale of woe in two acts.
Act One: We have a little fenced-in yard with a gate. One of the perks of having a small, portable dog is that at times when a full walk isn't an option, it's easy to just lift him over the fence and place him in the yard. He sniffs the bush, does his business, we both stroll over to the gate, I open it, we promenade back inside. Total elapsed time, two minutes.
Last night in the freezing cold we did this. Or tried to. When we got to the gate and tried to open it, though, we noticed for the first time that it was FROZEN SHUT. Toby was trapped. I was the worst dog owner ever.
I ran back into the house and sprinted through the apartment to our little-used side door. It hadn't been shovelled, so what were normally the four concrete steps leading up to it had been turned into a dome of ice and snow. Normally daunting, but with my dog at stake I hacked into the ice with my heels, cutting a safe path down so I could get to Toby...who was back in the front yard, terrified. He'd heard the hacking noises and heavy breathing and hell NO was he going anywhere near that side door, didn't I know there were serial killers back there? I had to pick him up and carry him inside, his little claws sunk into my shoulder as he readied himself to jump free the second they pulled me down.
I shut the door and locked it from the inside. (This will be important in Act Two.)
Act Two: We, as I'm sure many households do, have a Monster Door. It's really just the door between the living room and the rest of the house, but when the doorknob fell off on one side D realized it could be a crucial line of defense between us in the bedroom and the monsters who make it past the front door, so we never fixed it. Instead we close it each night right before bed, sealing the living room off from the rest of the apartment. And then we lay down caltrops.
No, just kidding. (We can't find any caltrops.)
Anyhow, last night, about a half hour after Act One, the pizza delivery driver rang our bell and my dog, of course, went ballistic. To keep him out from underfoot I shooed him into the next room and pulled the door--the *Monster Door*--ajar. At which point, as sure as toast falls butter-side down, he pushed it the rest of the way shut.
PARTIAL LIST OF THINGS USED IN ATTEMPTS TO GET THE DOOR TO OPEN:
*A disposable razor
*String
*A shoelace
*Soap
*Telekinesis
*Shoving
*Scissors
In the end
discojesus discovered that the narrow end of my kazoo, slid into the proper aperture and twisted, would open the door. It's still sticking out of the door, just in case I need to use it again.The way things have been going, I have a hunch that I will.
