So last night I stayed up late finishing an excellent book (more on that in a moment), knowing that on Saturday morning I could sleep in 'till 6 am or so. Debbie is away at a dog agility event with Miki and Race (our two rambunctious younger dogs), leaving me with Lea (12 years old) and Mo'i (9 years old). Both dogs stretched out luxuriously on the bed. By 10 pm or so we were all snoring.
Until about 4:05 am, that is. At that moment, in the hallway just outside our bedroom door, the fire alarm decided that its battery had reached the end of its lifetime. I'm sure you know what that meant: at precisely 60 second intervals, an ear-splitting “chirp!” erupted.
This had three immediate effects: I woke up, Mo'i leapt straight up and then ran out looking for the source of the evil noise, and Lea started shivering with an energy that must be experienced to be believed. Lea is absolutely terrified by loud, sudden noises (thunder, gun shots, fireworks, and fire alarms all qualify). Her reaction is to instantly start shivering violently – if you hold her tightly, it feels like she's wiggling back and forth with all the power she can muster, several times per second. It's so powerful a motion that it's actually a little frightening – you wonder how her flesh can hold up.
So of course, half asleep, half blind without my glasses and in the pitch dark, I have to get up and fix the danged fire alarm. I don't dare simply pull out the old battery, because it might be months before I remember to replace it. So I stumble out to the kitchen to find a new battery (bashing two toes and an elbow in the process), then into the livingroom to find a stool to stand on (bashing my face into the wall in the process), then triumphantly carry the stool and battery into the hallway. Somehow in the darkness I managed to tangle my legs around the stool and I tripped – hurtling the battery a few miles as I fell, and making a satisfying “thud” with the side of my head as I acquainted myself intimately with the floor.
After a couple of minutes I could see the darkness again (after the flashing stars disappeared). Back into the kitchen. Found another battery. Back to the hall, on my hands and knees to reduce the amount of potential energy should I stumble again. Found the stool, astonishingly still in one piece. Put the stool in the proper place, clambered onto it, and successfully removed the old battery. Dropped the new battery. Carefully descended the stool and searched until I found the new battery. Back onto the stool, replaced the battery, and slithered back down and back into bed.
A couple hours later, sunshine streaming into the window woke me up. The first thing I did was to gingerly touch the various parts of my body that had been rudely smashed a couple hours earlier – everything seemed to be in the right place, and at least approximately of normal size, so apparently the injuries weren't as bad as the associated pain would indicate. A quick check in the mirror: no blood, no bruises. Amazing! Then out to the hallway where I located the stool and the old, used battery – but I still haven't found the first new battery that went flying as I fell. I'm not at all certain it's still on my property, much less inside my house. I looked for telltale holes in the furniture and walls, but found nothing. Maybe it vaporized upon impact, or maybe it's in orbit...
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