This is Deputy Digby Pancake. Let me be the first to welcome you to Asheville, North Carolina! Yes. We finally made it off of that mountain in Tennessee.
It actually was the least of our problems the past few days to have no cell service staying dry from all of the rain from that storm. Which I don’t want to mention anymore. Because we had bigger hills to climb. We had bigger hills to get stuck on. At least Girl Person did. And it is my job today to fill you in on what we could not fill you in on. With no cell service. And that storm. Which I don’t want to mention anymore.
Sometimes, it is just too crazy to think of the crazy things that seem to happen to us on the road. Have you ever had something happen to you, and you just can’t believe it, and it is like you are watching someone else? Like, it just doesn’t make much sense? Like how many times Brickle looks at himself all day?
It all started with a dinner. A normal, actual dinner. Girl Person had made us our favorites and I was chowing down as I always do. I was going to town. We all have to eat. There is no sense in eating bad food. I had the best food on the best paper plates on top of the best mountain we were stuck on. And it was great. Until I dropped my dinner in the dirt. Dirty Digby may be my nickname. But I don’t like it as a seasoning. But when you have a choice to eat, or send it back to the kitchen and wait for more food, I think you know what my choice was. I ate it. And I liked it.
All of a sudden, I knew there was an issue. I had something stuck in my mouth. Girl Person saw me, I started making noises and she thought I was choking. She screamed for Boy Person who ran outside, and as they tried to pry my mouth open, they calmed down when they knew I could breathe, and when I stole Brickle’s food and ate it. But then I remembered I had a problem, I opened my mouth as wide as I could, and I tried to get it out, and the persons…they were having what they call panic attacks.
They couldn’t find any problem and I couldn’t understand either what was happening. I was tired of Girl Person’s hand in my mouth. I was tired of Brickle trying to help me by panting in my face. I couldn’t drink any water, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. But I had a walk to go on. I pretended to be ok. But Girl Person knew. I was not ok. She just hoped that whatever it had been was gone. And as I got back to the RV and laid down, she saw what fell out of my mouth. A staple. A staple. I don’t work in an office. I don’t type. Girl Person does that. I don’t need a desk. Because when you sit at a desk you should wear pants and I don’t. I don’t fax anything. I don’t need papers. So obviously. I did not need that staple.
Girl Person was confused. Where. In. The. World. Did I get a staple in my mouth? And then she remembered the dropped chicken drumstick. Yep. They concluded that it must have been on the ground. And as crazy as it was, that little staple had wreaked havoc on us all, and gave us quite a scare. And food should never scare you.
When you have such a scare, you find it hard to go to sleep. At least Girl Person did. She kept thinking of what could have happened. And then, early in the morning, her alarm went off. You see, she had to drive up to the top of the mountain to be able to post our blog. It was foggy. It was dark. And so she said that she put her lights on for safety and not to drive off the mountain. She was all happy, looking at the mountain views that morning.
She was thinking that she was a little cold, and maybe she should have put on real shoes instead of flip flops. And so she sat in the car, and worked, and well. She also left the lights to the car on. For an hour. She was texting Gandma, working, looking at dog pictures, thinking about the coffee Boy Person was going to make her. And then, she started the car. Except. It did not start. At all.
First, she said that she thought she was imagining things. Was this really happening? She tried again. Nothing. She sat and thought about it. And as she thought about it, she saw the lights to the car on. And she yelled at herself, forgetting that it was so pretty up there. Because she didn’t want to be stuck up there. But no one heard her yelling. Because we were the only ones in the campground. Way. Down. The. Mountain. And she was way up the mountain, y’all.
She had two choices, she figured. She could wait for Boy Person to worry and run up there. Or she could panic. And run. In her flip flops. And so. And so. She ran as fast as she could. She navigated around caterpillars in the road. The spiders. The cars. Just kidding. There were no cars. And as she ran, she kept yelling for Boy Person on the slim chance he would hear her. But he did not. And as she ran, and she ran, for miles in those flip flops, she finally saw the RV. Boy Person heard her flips flops first. He ran outside, and asked what happened. All she could say was the car…would not start. Lights. Dead. Battery.
Boy Person knew he had a problem. That was their only car. And no way were they driving that RV back down the mountain. And so he said he would take care of it. Girl Person cried. But she knew. If anyone could figure out what to do, it would be Boy Person.
Boy Person finally got up there, Girl Person tried to calm down and walk us, and about an hour later…we heard it. Here came Boy Person with our car! It was running! He told Girl Person how he started it down that mountain, and she knew. She would never leave the lights on again.
They say all is well that ends well. And let me just say. You are going to be shocked at what happened next. Some things are better left till the next day. And let me just tell you a preview to the blog tomorrow. I don’t like certain music. I don’t like it all. I also don’t like when the persons leave me and Brickle…even for two hours. And what happened next made that staple and the run down the mountain seem like a piece of cake. Cake would have been much better than what happened next. Let’s just say it involves an old hot dog and the biggest mess. Ever.
On days when you think your problems are the biggest in the world, you may look back on that day and wonder what you were worried about. One day can certainly make a difference. Never take for granted the blessings that were in it. Even when it contained staples. That may seem like a piece of cake the next day.
To be continued on tomorrow’s blog…
-Deputy Digby Pancake
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2 thoughts on “A Staple, Dead Battery And Destroyed Radio, Part One”
Oh, and if the Jeep is standard, I know exactly how Boy Person got it started. I’ve done the same thing with my 5-speed (which I miss because, well, you can start it even if the battery has run down). I even did it in Reverse because my driveway in Pensacola was on a slight incline, and I needed to roll backwards because, well, the car was facing the house, so — backwards out of the driveway.
An old hot dog and the biggest mess ever? I don’t know if I even want to think about it, but I’m thinking I already know the gist. Oh, lordy, Digby! What did you do?