Tuesday, April 15, 2003

Nappus Interuptus....some teen peddling something came "pounding" on the door and ringing the bell simultaneously this afternoon. I woke with a start, fearing the dogs were out or the house was on fire....I have actually been trained to sleep thru one ring of the doorbell in a pseudo haze as a result of reverse Pavlovian conditioning....I hear one ring of the bell and unlike Pavlov's dog, I don't react at all or at least try not to. The credit for this ability goes to the intensive post (high school) graduate work of "the UPS guy", who drops his packages on the porch, rings and leaves before I can even get to the door so I no longer try...
Perhaps I could qualify for some federal research grant to study Pavlovian Interrupted Sleep Syndromes. I know it sounds silly but THIS GUY gets grant money for heading the "Neuro Fuzzy Optical System Team". His name is Pavlov too.

Anyway if you bang on my door and ring the bell, I am going to get up...I'm not going to be nice. This kid was already starting round two of banging and ringing by the time I got some clothes on and made it to the door.... "Hello Sir, how are you today?"..... I'm half dressed, my hair is matted, I have remnants of drool and pillow wrinkles on my face, no glasses on, the dogs (completely unaware of Pavlov and presumably the Neuro Fuzzy Team) are barking/howling and I'm scowling.... We won't need a study to determine if this teen sales-whiz is psychic.

I communicated that I was not interested in purchasing anything at this time, though I don't believe I used that exact wording.
Speaking of dogs, my co-worker has shared a tale of his dog, Molly. Molly is an "outdoor" dog, meaning she is banished for life from ever setting foot inside their home. She has her own "dog house" and in the winter months she's allowed as close as she'll ever get to the Master's home, the garage. I'm not sure why people have "outdoor dogs", admittedly I've never had one, but it seems like owning a pet that you don't pet. "If you look out the window you can see our dog...see her....over there...we don't touch her, but isn't she pretty". I also have this creepy feeling about it, like it's some way to hang onto the "Plantation owner" stage of humanity, with the dog being banished to the slave quarters..

Anyway, while Molly was living the good life at her winter place, the garage, she made a friend. Someone, actually something, that also is not allowed in the Master's home...the lawnmower. Molly has developed an attachment to the family lawnmower. The bond is so strong that when it's cold, Molly takes her blankets and carefully wraps them each night around the lawnmower. It's gotten to the point where Molly is quite obviously unhappy when she and the lawnmower are separated so when Molly leaves the warm and loving surroundings of the garage and is put in her pen, the mower goes with her. The family can now look out the window to see their pet, and determine if it's been chilly that night by whether "Snapper the lawnmower" is wrapped in Molly's blankets. Molly does not sleep in her dog house....because the lawnmower won't fit inside with her.

I love this story....and I hope it's made into a movie, although I see the obvious title IS ALREADY TAKEN.

What I find most interesting in this tale is that my coworker is buying a new lawnmower because he can't handle taking Molly's friend away from her to mow the Plantation.

Wag the dog...Pavlov style.