Monday, April 23

The crew and I are up and out of Quail Ridge RV Resort by 7:20 a.m.   Only a few minutes later we arrive for our 8 o’clock appointment at Kelly’s Transmission in Huachuca City, Arizona.

Why are we here this early?

Well, not being sure how much trouble I’ll have shifting the Perfect Tow Vehicle into drive, I pop the crew into the PTV very early and give the shifter a try.

To my relief, she goes into drive easily.

Rather than turn off the engine and try again closer to appointment time, I drive us to Kelly’s.

Reggie and Roger benefit from us being early.

I walk them around the block through a neighborhood of modest homes.  Roses bloom in several of the yards.  Dogs bark from behind chain link fences as we pass.  It’s another sunny morning in Arizona.

“Okay, you’ve had your walk.  Be good boys while we wait.”

Roger picks out a spot on the door mat where he can survey inside and out, he being the main man in our little trio.  Reggie plants his paws  in front of me and commences The Stare.

The Stare is a pressure tactic. 

You see, there are dogs who realize that humans cannot stand being stared at for longer than a few minutes.  Invariably said humans become uncomfortable and restless when stared at and this causes them to do something.

Canines use this human weakness to their advantage.

“Not today, Reg.  It’s not going to work today.  When the man comes out of the shop, I have to talk to him and you will have to wait.”

Transmission Guy comes out and greets us.

“Good morning!  What can I do for you?”

Immediately Roger employs his own, signature pressure tactic, that being The Conniption Fit.  Reggie drops The Stare and joins Roger, hopping up and down, barking, whatever is obnoxious.

“Excuse me a minute please,” I say to Transmission Guy over the din.  “I’ll put them in my van and be right back.”

“See ya’ later, boys.”

I shut the door of the PTV and walk away, resisting the urge to turn around to lock eyes with two indignant, canine faces at the passenger side window.

I explain to Transmission Guy that I talked with another Kelly’s man previously about a transmission rebuild.  Transmission Guy enters information about me and the PTV into the computer.

I ask him about adding a transmission cooler to the job.  (We check to see if the PTV has a transmission cooler.  It doesn’t.)

“Yes, we can do that and it won’t take any longer because we’ll put the cooler on while the transmission is out.”

“I’d like you to install a big cooler, not . . . .”

“That’s the only kind we install,” he interjects.  “We don’t handle those little coolers,” he adds with a tinge of disgust in his voice.

For emphasis he holds up his hands about ten inches apart to indicate the disgraceful puny-ness of the coolers they wouldn’t dream of installing.  Not at Kelly’s Transmissions of Huachuca City!

No sir-ree!

“Oh-kay . . . . How much will a BIG cooler add to my bill?”

“About $250, parts and labor,” he responds automatically.

Gulp.

Hey?  What’s $250 when you’re swimmin’ in the deep end of transmission repair?  Hah.  Big, honking deal.  I LAUGH at such a trifling amount!  Go ahead and slap on that cooler and put it on my tab, sweetheart!  Woo-hoo!

And while you’re at it, pour me another drink . . . .

(Seriously, the total bill for the transmission rebuild plus the transmission cooler will be discussed in a future post. I need time to prepare myself psychologically.)

The boss man drives up.

A friendly greeting, I leave the keys with Transmission Guy, grab the crew out of the PTV, and the boss drives us home (to our home, not his!) at Quail Ridge.  He will pick us up when the PTV is all better, estimated to be Thursday afternoon.

~ ~ ~

In other news . . . .

“Crazed Chihuahua Attacks Golden Retriever”

Activity at the dog park proceeds as usual until Reggie challenges Trace!

Reggie’s cohort, Roger, sees what’s going down.

Reggie feigns helplessness and Trace plays along, while Roger assumes the role of spotter.

When Trace lets down his guard, Reg sees an opening!

Oh!  Trace is down for the count!

Reggie can’t help but smile at this conquest!  Mighty Trace is determined not to give up!

“Hahahahaha!  That was FUN!  Now whattawedo next?”

Remember Simba?

He’s the one on the left in the next photo.

Blogorinos were asked to  identify Simba’s breed.  Various guesses came in:  Manchester terrier, Italian greyhound, rat terrier, part weimaraner, Heinz 57, a mini-pinscher mix, and so on.

I go back to the dog park and ask the owner.  He says Simba is a rat terrier!

Another identification from a previous post . . .

Readers identify this cactus as an agave, quite likely the artichoke agave.  It does look like you could pluck off the “leaves” and dip them in melted butter.

rvsue

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