ELEMENTARY MY DEAR WATSON

POST # 54


The chair that I am sitting in as I begin to write this blog, has one of those adjustable knobs underneath the seat. One moment I am at the level that is suitable for my typing and then the next thing I know is that I have descended in an instant and the computer keyboard is now way up high in comparison. What the??? I know it can't be blamed on the Mayans, because here it is the 21st, and I'm still here and so is everything else. The answer to the problem is elementary my dear Watson. It's Watson.

Watson as mentioned in my previous entry is the Boston terrier that I am now in charge of for the next six weeks or so. He is only about ten months old at this stage and so he has that puppy tendency to want to play with and or chew on anything and everything that is within his reach. The black knob underneath my chair is just one of those "toys" that Watson has discovered is fun to play with. I think he takes pleasure in watching me drop like a stone, when he chews the knob just right. One would think that he has enough toys to play with around here that he doesn't have to choose my chair as another one. However in the short time that I have been here, he seems to be destroying those other toys at a rapid rate of knots, so I guess the chair is just a natural extension to his toy collection.

Watson is the first Boston terrier that I have ever had the pleasure to care for and so it's a learning experience to find out how he ticks. I have to give him full marks in the affectionate department. In fact, just a moment ago, he was sound asleep on the floor next to me, and it's almost as if he read my thought about being affectionate, because the next thing I know is that he has hopped up on my lap for a cuddle. His head is actually lying across one of my wrists at the moment and he is beginning to snore. This makes for challenging typing, but I will be able to use him now as my excuse for any typing errors from this line forward.

Speaking of snoring, Watson has that down to a fine art, and it's loud. This wouldn't be such a big issue except for the fact that he wants to share the bed with me at night. Now I am used to having pets curled up with me in bed. It comes with the territory, but I have never come across one that snores as loud as Watson. So loud in fact, that I have resorted to using ear plugs so that I can fall asleep. I hope that I will get accustomed to his sound soon, so that I can discard the plugs, but time will tell.

This snoring business makes me think back on a time when I was living in Melbourne. I had just moved in to a new place, sharing with another guy whom I had only recently met through a friend. I had been there about a week and on the night in question I went to bed, and about 3am I woke to what sounded like another person snoring in the bed beside me. I knew that there was only the two of us in the house and for a few moments there were a variety of thoughts going through my head. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to handle the fact that this relative stranger, and a guy at that, had decided to sneak into bed with me in the middle of the night. I flicked on the light switch and I was immediately relieved and I began to chuckle. In bed next to me, was his cat, Motchca, snoring to beat the band, and she sounded just like a human. Needless to say, I didn't have to move out as a result, and Zoltan and I became friends and I ended up living there for a couple of years.

Back to Watson. In addition to his snoring in bed habit, he also likes to burrow under the covers and get nestled in next to me. At least then, his snoring is somewhat muffled, and he provides a little body heat for the remainder of the evening. This is all new territory for me and I am beginning to adjust to his habits and as time passes, I imagine that we will find a comfortable routine that suites the both of us.

My journey to Yuma was uneventful, even at the beginning last week in Vancouver airport, where I was sure that all the hardware in my leg would set the alarms ringing as I walked through security, however nothing at all happened. I mentioned to the security people there prior to walking through, that I had metal in my leg, and when I went through without incident, the security lady actually made a joke about it and said and I quote, "maybe the doctor just put wood in there." This made us all laugh, and it was a rare moment of humanness that is hard to find in airport security personnel in this day and age. It was appreciated by all who were with in earshot.

I was on two flights to get here, one to Phoenix and then a shorter one to Yuma from there. As we flew over miles upon miles of desert I couldn't help but wonder about what an issue water might become in the not too distant future for this part of the continental United States. As much as we in the Pacific Northwest like to complain from time to time about the rain, rain, rain, at least we probably don't have to worry about going thirsty. I can't be sure that the people living here will be able to say the same thing down the road.

Well, the hour is getting late, and so it's time to wrap this up for this week. Watson is snoring away contentedly on my lap, totally oblivious to the words that are being written about him. Poor little bonehead. As long as he has a warm lap, a few toys to play with, a walk now and again, and some food and water, he's happy. Or so he appears to be.

He seems to be saying to me, "Simplicity is best, Paul."
"Why of course, it's elementary my dear Watson."

The Yuma journey continues to unfold.

Updates to follow.

Happy trails,
Paul
The Thoughtful Wanderer