And now for something completely different

I've strictly used this blog to document the progress of our home's renovation. But I must digress this time to write about something that happened over the weekend in our neighborhood, so it's close enough to the subject of the house. In fact, it was just next door.

One of our neighbors had this puppy - this adorable, black lab mix (we think). He occasionally got out of the yard because he was small enough to fit through gaps in the fence. So he was then confined to a pen in the yard, pretty much all the time, since we rarely saw anyone out there with him. Not the greatest life, but we figured since he wasn't being physically abused, we wouldn't say or do anything. And besides, it's none of our business. This isn't the kind of neighborhood where you get up in other people's business anyway.

Michael noticed on Saturday that the puppy didn't look so great, so he kept an eye on him throughout the day. Then later that afternoon when he went to rinse some paint brushes off outside, some kids were out there, so he went over to check on him. The puppy was on death's door, he said, when he came back in the house. We made some calls and ended up loading the puppy and the kids, whom we'd never met before, in our car and rushing to the emergency vet across town. The little guy didn't even make it to the vet's office.

I've lived a pretty sheltered life. I'm also extremely sensitive when it comes to animals and their well-being. I'd never witnessed the death of a person or animal before, and while I didn't actually see it, it happened right behind me in my own car. I heard him die, gasping those last few breaths. It was so terribly heartbreaking. You can imagine the blubbering mess I was reduced to on Saturday.

I wished we'd stepped in sooner. I wished I'd encouraged Michael to do something when he first noticed something was wrong instead of trying not to stick our noses where they don't belong. But that probably wouldn't have saved his life. I figured he was dehydrated and his kidneys shut down (he had been peeing blood, apparently), but who knows. He lived outside, all the time. It gets really hot here in Richmond. You do the math. Something was wrong, and had been wrong, and no one else did anything about it.

After the sadness, anger begins to take over. Anger at people who have absolutely no business owning a dog, let alone a puppy. I read about it, I see it on TV, tales of neglect, but it's never happened this close to home. If you can't handle the responsibility, the hassle, the ruined furniture/carpet/shoes/clothes/whatever, don't get a pet. And if something doesn't work out, there are so many places, especially in and around Richmond, where you can take your pet if you can't give it the care it needs. It's so simple - I just don't understand how people can be so oblivious. Or just plain ignorant.

When we got back home after this whole ordeal, after I was finally able to let it all out and compose myself, I went into our living room and sat down next to Tanga and just petted him, thankful that we still have him around for many years to come. We complain a lot about our little orange terror, and his cross-eyed partner in crime, but we still love them and would do just about anything for them. I just hate that all pets aren't so lucky. So any of you out there with pets, please go love them just a little extra. And if I ever find out someone I know has a pet and is responsible for letting it suffer just a fraction of what our neighbors' puppy suffered, I will hunt you down.

I've often thought that the title Urban Camping no longer applies to this here blog, what with the major renovations having already taken place and the fact that we have a working HVAC system now. And yet, this house continues to surprise me. Like at three o'clock this morning, when we had, according to the local weathermen, torrential downpours. Three inches in an hour kind of rain. Previously when Richmond had terrible rain like this, the ceiling fell through in one of the second floor rooms; that room is now our bedroom. Michael had been worried about it leaking in there, even after getting a new roof and all the repairs made, because of some other minor issues that haven't been fixed yet. But we'd survived several bouts of rain since then, and so far, no leaks.

Until last night. I woke up to the rain hitting the air conditioning unit and after not going right back to sleep, I got up to use the bathroom. When I walked back into the bedroom, Michael was also up and standing by the window. I thought he'd gotten up to see what was going on outside. Instead, he's standing there with his hands cupped, asking me to get him a bucket. Oh, the sense of dread that filled me then. It wasn't a bad leak, just a slow drip, and Michael noticed that the leak got much worse any time the wind blew. I was more worried that I may not get back to sleep because of the drip, drip, drip than about the bigger issue here: there's water coming into our house. But this isn't something that we're terribly worried about; we haven't had a big rain like that in a while, and the house has stood up to normal rain just fine. There's siding we need to have replaced on the dormer upstairs, which is how the rain was getting in, and it's one of the many things left on the to-do list. We'll just be taking care of this item sooner than we thought.

Speaking of our new bedroom, I never posted pictures of the finished product. So here's a look at what the second floor of the house looks like, keeping in mind that we're about halfway done with this floor.

At the top of the stairs is the old bathroom that's been gutted. We have a piece of sheet rock blocking it to keep the cats out.


Kirin found a way in a few times (i.e., she squeezed her fat self through a slightly larger opening). Michael didn't believe me when I told him the gap needed to be smaller. So she'd get in there and crawl around under the floor, with all the exposed insulation around, which might account for the sneezing problem she's developed recently.

Here's the floor that Michael fell through:


Moving along, here's the hallway; the bathroom is to your left, the stairs going up and going down to your right.


Next is what used to be the upstairs kitchen. This is our work room for now, as you can tell, and will one day be another bedroom.


Now we come to the bathroom; this used to be a hallway that was just wasted space in the house.



And here's our bedroom.


(sorry for the ironing board; I didn't feel like moving it for the shot)



And here's the view from the bathroom, looking back toward the hallway and stairs:


Oh yes, those are more green stairs. I just can't escape them.

Grumble, grumble

My parents came up to visit this past weekend, so on Saturday, the three of us went out to see some of Richmond's historical sites while Michael stayed home to work on the house. Honestly, I thought he'd take a nap instead.

So we come back to the house, and Michael greets us at the door. The first thing he says is, "You know how you always wanted that skylight in the kitchen?" Turns out Michael was working upstairs in the old bathroom, which sits on top of the kitchen and does not have a floor anymore, and put his foot through the ceiling. I swear, I thought the days of holes in the ceilings were behind us.

On the up side, this happened while my dad was here. My dad knows how to fix anything, so he helped Michael patch the hole fairly quickly. All that's left is to sand and repaint the patched section, and hope it's not too noticeable.

Oh, and Michael's OK. He's a little bruised, and there's a slight chance we may not be able to have kids, but he's fine. Which should've been the first thing I asked him, instead of asking how bad the ceiling looked while trying not to freak out. He's so lucky to have such a caring wife.