The Adventures of Geo Beane: Day 2 of Renovations

It was Saturday, so we get to spend a little extra time under the covers.

"Geee-yo... o, gooood mornin'," yawned Humphrey with a heavy sleepy left hand on the top of my ruddy head resting on his chest. His arm wrapping all the way around me for added warmth and protection.

True, I've got my own cushion on the floor, and I am the dog of the house, but I've slowly worked my way up. First, I conquered the foot of the bed. Humphrey of course had said: "No Dogs on the Bed," but he suffers from cold feet, poor fellow, and what better hot-water bottle than a doggie? Once the feet were warm, and he was sound asleep, I would steal up to his core to reclaim my lost body heat.

I would be happiest right next to his ear, but Humphrey draws the line at his pillow. He refuses to share. Sigh. So, we have compromised...

We are having a typical Saturday morning, except Humphrey reminds us:

"Boo, it is day 2 and we have to keep the momentum going, even though it is the weekend."

I swear my human has more than two arms. He is now juggling several devices, a notebook and pen, and making something he called "estimates." I'm reading the tattoos on his right arm like comics. These never fail to entertain. Something about the old fishing dock days, I speculate.

"...mrrrwfff..." I let out a little sniffle, to get a reassuring petting of my presence, which he quickly but absent mindedly delivers while mulling over some input.

He's already checked out a few stories on Prose and posted some new writing, and now he's Googling Home Depot and Menards and Lowe's, comparing data.

"I had an idea while Youuubee were sleeping, Geo..."

I raise my tuffy forehead with undivided attention and full concentration.

"We can't afford solid wood floor installation right now, even if we did it ourselves; but we can do is put in easy upkeep vinyl that will keep us on schedule for move in. What do you think of that, eh??"

I give his ribs an affirmative nudge, while my stomach growls. "Good," he continued nodding to us both, "then we'll finish ripping up the tile in the foyer, and start pulling out the rug in the den..."

By now we're in full swing of morning dance, pulling on jeans and t-shirt, and finding my leash. He gives his face an appraisal in the bathroom mirror and declares, "Shower and shave will have to wait," and runs a comb through his hair.

"Arff argph!!" I cheer him on in approval cause my stomach is really rumbling now. And I want a walk. So much to do. "So little time!" says Humphrey, which I can never understand. Time. To me one thing just naturally comes after the other. And now it's time as always for more fun!

We're hopping in the car, with windows fully open and our hair and fur on fire, listening to Bat out of Hell on full blast. Home Depot is "a bust," according to Humphrey. He darkly frowned at the limited selection, which he said did not match the online inventory and did not have what we wanted. He then checked the paint aisle, where the attendant gave me a paint mixing stick to chew on, and a gratis can opener that refused to sit still in the cart, while Humphrey had a selected can of white put in the spinner to check out the True Color... It was "perfect," but he tapped my nose and said, "Geo Beane some things are not meant to be, and We are not going to be suckered."

With that he put the can back on the shelf, and said, "Off to Menard's. Menard is a duck, and a duck is luck."

"Mrr??" he had me at duck. This I had to see. I love riding in the pushcart, by the way, with all the cares of the world scooting-by underfoot as Humphrey rushes us along, back to the SUV. People smile and wave to us like I'm famous in this Imperial Orange Home Depot Litter. I grin from ear to ear and turn my head appreciatively, while Humphrey whistles amusedly.

At Menards, I'm so disappointed. "Rrrrh..." no ducks. I jump up and down dangerously in the cart and Humphrey is giving me the evil eye. But how can I settle down? Apparently, he's found everything HE was looking for... but the sticks for the roller brush extension that would usually get my sincerely interested nibble, along with the roller itself, fail to entertain because all I want is the afore promised DUCKS which are Nowhere-to-be-found. Definitely not in the tile aisle where Humphrey is lugging a big box of 40, to add to the cart next to the paint cans, and now there is hardly room for me in here and I just want out. Out! OUT!! OUT!!!!

"GEO BEANE," he said sternly folding me into his chest to calm down, while the cashier cashed us out. I gave a huff and a whimper and rested my muzzle on his shoulder begrudgingly.

"We're heading home for some lunch, coffee and some office work," he reassured us in the car. "We'll go back to the new place later and tear up some rug." That cheered me up right away, and I sat like a Princess in his lap the whole drive home while he hummed some tune he's been working on...

Later, when I woke up, Humphrey was very busy on his devices and gadgets.

"Oh, looky who's awake..." he said with lots of pets, hugs and tickles.

We packed up the new materials and made the ten-minute drive to the renovation. I helped supervise, while Humphrey bagged the chips of old tile, and cut up some rug. The rug had deteriorated badly, and the carpet cushion was now covered with what looked to be sand but was actually grains of the synthetic backing of the wall-to-wall carpeting. I'm a clean Pomeranian so The Idea of rolling around in it would never occur to me...

"Good girl," Humphrey warned sternly, holding up a hand just to be sure.