(The questionable double-entendre in the headline only pertains to the fact that blogger friend, Pinklea, has just revamped her kitchen, and I’ve revamped the patio and she wanted to hear about that as she has told about her kitchen.)
It was a massive relief to Max this morning that he could actually go out the back door.
For the previous two days, when his passage was impeded he was muttering (in canine, of course) “WTF? This is my back door. This is how I get out and why are you stopping me?”
Even worse, the only egress he got from the place, except when we went out the front door to take him walkies, was the garage side door. This was even more confusing to him.
“This is more confusing to me,” he expressed. “I never go out here. I don’t know this side yard. I don’t go here.”
Of course, the reason he was unable to go out the back door was a simple matter of wet concrete. I mentioned the excavation earlier, and Max was fully in favor of that. But, he didn’t really appreciate how things had changed. Here were all these guys around the place and a big honkin’ truck in the driveway and people doing stuff that he was unable to see.
But then — late in the day yesterday — it was all laid and it looks absolutely magnificent. If I could have carnal feelings about a home improvement, I would do so about this new patio. It’s splendid.
And it was then that Max was allowed to do a kind of christening. No, he wasn’t invited to pee on it. Better than that, he got to make his imprimatur. In other words, we wanted him to “sign” it. This was done – at the suggestion of the concrete contractor who was actually quite a cool dude who totally ‘got’ why we wanted Max to be immortalized. So, he signed it (I helped him with the spelling). And, being cliché-riven folk, of course, we wanted him to stick a couple of paws in to leave a permanent impression. But, the contractor dude suggested, in lieu of that, was for me to short-leash him and then have him walk in a brief circle along the wet cement so that all four paws would be there.
And they were. And it’s all good.
Feel free to drop by for drinkies sometime.
That is, of course, after we get the new barbecue. You can’t have an old shit barbecue with a new patio. Oh, and new chair cushions, of course. And new planters.
Everything in life is exponential, ain’t it?