Pool repair hell. I know, I know - boo-hoo, poor you, right? I mean, who complains about having a swimming pool? Many people would love to have that "problem." It's just that the pool and I are not friends.
Let me tell you why. Water and I have a history. When I was a kid, growing up in Pennsylvania, there weren't too many opportunities to swim. Hey, I was a champ at ice skating, but that isn't even recognized as a thing here in Florida. Honestly, it wouldn't have mattered if I'd grown up in the middle of the ocean - or been born a mermaid - I cannot stay afloat.
I tried telling that to the counselors at Girl Scout Camp. They thought they knew better, so they made me jump into the deep end of the pool. I went straight to the bottom and stayed there. The end result was, they had to jump in and rescue me.
Then my parents enrolled me in the YMCA swim program. That was a bust. I have been thrown into deep water so many times, it's a wonder I haven't grown gills. Would that I could.
But remember, we live in Florida, where you can't dig a hole without creating another "lake", and my husband was determined our kids would be swimmers. That's a whole other story. So, when we built our house in 1989 - we added a swimming pool.
Now, to the heart stopping matter. I have a penchant for Bully breeds. My first dog was a Boston Terrier. We've had a Boxer, Three French Bulldogs and now the two Bullmastiffs. Bully breeds are not known for their swimming prowess. As a matter of fact, most French Bulldogs cannot swim.
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| Not our girls, but could be. |
I speak from experience on this because all three of ours fell into the pool, sunk to the bottom and had to be rescued. We actually had three little life vests for them. For thirteen years I cursed that pool and wanted to fill it in with dirt.
On the upside, the kids had so much fun in that pool. They had their friends over for parties and the pool was the gathering point. My grandchildren love the thing.
As like the rest of us, the pool started showing its age. A facelift for a pool costs more than one for a human, but it had to be done. All I can say is, I will be long gone before it ever needs another one. If I am still alive, I will just go ahead and kill myself before going through this again. (Kids, if you read this, Gigi is kidding!) No, I'm not....
Rather than bore anyone with the gruesome details of this protracted renovation, I will focus on the effect it's having on the poor creatures living here - starting with poor Roxy. Three weeks ago, we moved her condo to the back yard. Since then, she has been subjected to numerous scary construction sights and sounds, the likes of which I feared would cause her to have a heart attack. I once gave a bunny a heart attack by simply moving it's cage to the driveway. How she has endured is beyond me.
Jack and Rooney. Because the screen doors and gates are wide open, they cannot go out to the backyard. This means they need to be walked out front. On the few days they can go out, they immediately make a beeline for the trash piles strewn about the yard. Those piles contain all sorts of hazards like rusty nails and pieces of concrete. Like heat-seeking missiles, they home in on all things toxic or deadly.
Then, there's the huge, gaping hole, which would appeal only to skate boarders. Imagine a dog's surprise when seeing this for the first time. They both stopped in their tracks and acted like they were teetering on the edge of the Grand Canyon. But I caught fascination in their eyes and stopped them both, before the allure of it took hold, and they jumped in.
Did I mention the rusty nails everywhere? Well, Dash found them when he escaped the safety of the house one day and went tearing around the empty space. As I ran after him, both of us had to sidestep and hop to avoid needing a Tetanus shot. I hate chaos.
I can't explain to the cats why they cannot go outside to their cherished haven. They look at me with pleading eyes - doing their Puss In Boots impersonations - and I want to give them what they want. But like any parent, who has to say no when their kid wants to hear yes, I do the right thing and promise them a trip to Disneyworld.
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