EBS--Coming to a Store Near You!

Cheryl, I COMPLETELY missed a good photo op of the short one in kabuki. From now on, I vow to be more on the ball with the cell-cam. I can't believe I didn't think of that in the moment! (I sigh the beleaguered sigh of the mommy who dropped the ball....)

It occurred to me that I might need to clarify things a bit. I don’t want to mislead anyone. As wonderfully caring, devastatingly good looking, and understanding as my husband is (compact florescent bulbs in the garage excepted), he does have his issues. He’s human, after all and he has his quirks. Perfection cannot be expected. Take his Elaborate Pulley System (EBS), for example.

We are the lucky owners of an allergy ridden, fur flying, ninety pound golden retriever named Sebastian. We love this big ball of hair and it is primarily due to our love for him that we felt we could make the leap from dog parent to human parent. There is simply no denying the fact that dog ownership requires sacrifice and commitment, but the frenetic--near hysterical-- love you get in return makes it worth it…almost.

One of the issues dog owners face is potty duty. We are exceptionally lucky in that our golden is virtually self-sufficient in this regard. We simply open the interior door, prop the screen door, and say something along the lines of, “Hurry up! I'm late for work.” Sebastian doesn’t even need a leash; he just runs out, performs his duty with lightning speed, and returns to the door for his cookie treat within moments. Painless.

Sometime during my seventh month of pregnancy, I noticed that Sebastian had taken to relieving himself right on the edge of our patio, turning the grass all along the perimeter a dead yellow. I tried to remedy the situation in the most logical way: I stood at the door and shouted, “No! Not there! Pee somewhere else! Pee on that bush at the back of the yard; I’ve never liked that bush.” To Sebastian, this sounded roughly equivalent to, “Blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah.” He looked at me quizzically while continuing to pee on the edge of the patio.

I pointed out the problem to Scott over breakfast.

Scott gave me his full attention as I kvetched over the dead grass and approached my idea for a solution, but Scott interrupted before I could finish:

“Say no more. I know just what to do.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Hang on, let me get some paper.” Scott hurried off to the office to get some paper while I waited. “Okay, take a look at this!”

With barely concealed excitement, Scott drew a sophisticated overhead view of our house and yard. I turned the paper back and forth, confused.

“I don’t understand what I’m looking at here. Care to explain?”

“Sure. What I’ve drawn here is our house, as indicated by this box shape right over here. These circular images here are the trees at the back of our property. What I plan to do is affix a pulley to the column outside the back door and another pulley directly across the yard on this tree. Then, I’ll string some heavy gauge, plastic coated wire securely between the two pulleys, making sure it is taut. When it’s time to let Sebastian out, we’ll just stand on the back step, hook a leash around his collar, connect the other end to the pulley, and feed the line out until he’s pulled all the way out to the rear of the yard. Then, when he’s done, we’ll just reel the line back in until he’s pulled back to the door! Simple, eh?” Scott looked over at me excitedly.

“Um, yeah. That could work. I guess. Or you could just walk him out by the back of the yard, let him do his business, and give him a cookie a couple of times until he gets the hang of it.” I looked up at him, eyebrows raised, while drumming the tabletop with my fingernails.

Scott stared at me in tense silence for a couple of seconds.

“Look, I can’t talk to you if you are going to be this way.” Scott threw down the pencil he’d been using to give his diagram three-dimensional shading, and huffed out of the room.

“What? What did I say? Honey? Honey??”

See, my husband has many, many good qualities, but simplicity is not one of them. He’s a very complex man. When it comes to solving issues, at least issues within our home, Scott has a tendency to overdo things, hence his propensity for elaborate engineering feats of genius when a simple cookie solution will do. Or purchasing 10 expensive compact florescent bulbs when we only need to replace ONE bulb. Or his obsession with larger and larger televisions with clearer and clearer pictures. (Do I really need to see the pimple on Katie Couric's chin? Wasn't my life just as complete before HDTV allowed us to see the individual blades of astroturf during foortball games?)

But as far as faults go, I figure that’s not sooooo bad....