Back when I was twenty something, I had the cutest Norwich terrier named Molly. It was irresponsible and selfish of me to adopt her. I lived alone and worked all day, but she was cute. Eventually, I rehomed her to the nurse of my gynecologist, perfect!
One night I was baking a cake and went outside to chat with my neighbor and locked myself out of my apartment.
The building had a lock and my 2nd floor apartment had a lock.
We all discussed what to do when someone said “borrow a ladder from the fire department and go in through the window.”
That sounded good to me so I called. Remember: I was 20 something.
“Ma’am, we don’t loan out our ladders.”
“But you don’t understand, my oven is on and my dog is inside.”
Well, that did it and the hook and ladder truck was on it’s way. With the lights flashing and the siren blasting.
Molly was fine.
Winston didn’t care though.
See, today I did it again. Locked the house with Winston inside and water boiling for eggs on the gas stove.
This time, I walked the two blocks to the fire station and lo and behold the hook and ladder followed me home. But without the bells and whistles. Thank Dog.
This time the Dad Peep broke the kitchen window before my new friends and I got back.
And Winston slept through it all.
So if you’re wondering why his food and water bowls are in the dining room, just picture me cleaning up the broken glass for years to come.
Everyone should love a Fireman.