Oh No...I Didn't

I was overjoyed to be hired by old clients recently.  Their preferred sitter happened to be my daughter and she had packed her life and headed to the university.  Sometimes it happened that way.  She came home for the summer and traditional holiday breaks and always had a waiting list of jobs.  This time the job was mine as it was, originally, in the very beginning. 

My charge, Phoenix, a black and white spaniel, around 4 years, was a joy. She was a very high energy girl, with inside manners and outside mayhem.  She loved people, frogs, butterflies, dead frogs (to roll upon), and flashlight beams after dark.

She always ate well and kept her companion cat, Jezabelle, one level up from the floor.  Occasionally vexed at her dog, the cat would ambush from under the kitchen tablecloth and Phoenix would scold and retreat.

As I have gotten older, daily walks with some of the younger crowd have been replaced with other less vigorous activities.  Since we had a huge, fenced back yard to play in, I didn’t feel that her normal 2 mile jaunt would be missed.  The yard is beautifully appointed with plantings, porch swings, gazing balls, pool (with hot tub), and raised vegetable gardens.

The gardens line the fence and each is lovingly planted with seasonal

veggies, herbs and peppers.  There is also a solitary citrus tree which bears green and then yellow fruit.  I am unfamiliar and decided not to sample it.

To access the back yard from inside, we pass through their Florida room;

a screened furnished outdoor room, which transforms to an inside room if you secure all the windows. The inside plants (orchids and other sweet fragranced beauties) are organized on shelving near the north wall where the morning sun welcomes them. The doggie door is on the east wall, right next to the people door. 

Every morning, one of my duties is to clean the pool. I use the net to remove drowned frogs and miscellaneous debris from it. So, as Phoenix scooted through her door, I accompanied her through my door and we went to explore the freshly watered lawn. While she ran laps and figure eights (so as not to miss anything), I attended to my chore.  Only one frog and it wasn’t quite waterlogged and hopped from the net to the safety of the grass.

Time for Frisbee!  We were focused on the course.  I aimed for the back fence and heard a click.  Hum, never heard that before, so we continued.

Phoenix heard something and high tailed it inside and then whined for me to open the sliding glass door.  We have to keep it closed because the cat is not supposed to come outside.

I grabbed the handle and opened, well tried to open, well couldn’t open the door BECAUSE IT WAS LOCKED.  She whined for me to come in (again).  I couldn’t and called to her to rejoin me on the outside side of the door.

Apparently, this has happened to somebody else, because she scooted to the gate and sat and waited. But, I saw her owner deadbolt it (with a wooden slat) from the street side when I came to visit just 2 days earlier.

Funny how life experience kicks in during times of stress.  I considered crawling atop the parked car (classic Mercedes) which was locked and hidden from view in the make shift carport on MY side of the fence.  If I could crawl on the hood, maybe I could scale the 6 foot fence and land in the mulched flower bed on the other side. Then I could regain entry through the keypad at the garage door. Well, no I decided.  That maneuver could land me in the E. R.

Maybe I could find a ladder and hoist it and open it to climb up, shift and climb back down.  No ladder…

I could fit through the doggie door. I got on my knees and tried. Got my head and one shoulder through…backed out…got my head and other shoulder through.  Stretched out as low to the ground as possible and was met with failure.  Couldn’t raise my arm far enough to reach the handle because it was on the far side of the door.  This had nothing to do with the fact that I had almost double jointed my elbow in an effort to do just that.

Maybe I could call husband to come.  Oh, yeah, we’re car sharing and I have the car.  As a matter of fact, I can see it through the fence and I can see someone walking by.  I yelled.  You know that gray haired kind of a yell which tells strangers that you’re an idiot and have locked yourself out.

Well I am thankful for divine intervention in the person of the kind gray haired lady who came with smile and understanding eyes to help me in my predicament. She gained access through the garage and met me laughing with a new spaniel best friend and opened the people door to let me in.  I thanked her, offered her money and a glass of water and she said she was almost home and now had something to tell her husband about her morning stroll.  I bet!

Now I know why I ask clients to hide spare keys on property.  But knowing me and my recent failed attempt, the key would be somewhere on THE OTHER SIDE of the house…