While I tend to favour written communication over other forms, there have been times that I’ve lost touch with people for significant periods of time due to the effort that goes specifically into writing e-mail. This isn’t to say that the people in question were in any way unworthy of my attention——far from it. If I’m e-mailing you in a non-business capacity, I want to compose something that goes beyond a perfunctory response, to provide a considerate, maybe even amusing, read for the recipient. In both professional and personal correspondence, I obsess over brevity, spelling, grammar, punctuation, and every other element of sending a message.

But quite frequently, I simply don’t have enough time to carefully concoct that ideal message to my recipient. At this rate, I’m lucky if they’re coherent.

A few months ago, for instance, I set out to respond to a simple e-mail from my sister’s beau, who planned to place a batch order from a millinery in Spain and asked if I wanted a boina. Of course! Eagerly I cracked open the laptop to peruse the options using my non-existent Spanish skills, and was reaching for the measuring tape to assess the enormity of my cranium when I heard the ominous clank of metal from somewhere in the yard. It sounded rather suspiciously like dog feet hitting a coyote roller.

I suspect that not a lot of domestic households in the immediately adjacent DC suburbs necessitate coyote rollers, and even fewer occupants of those households would immediately connect the sound of a metal pipe being hit with a dog flying over their fence, but that’s usually what the sound means in my case. The husband deliberately bought coyote rollers to keep Tater IN, not to keep the wildlife OUT. It has not entirely been successful towards either objective, and usually the clank of metal means that Tater has sailed over the fence to play peek-a-boo with automobiles or unsuspecting pedestrians.

At any rate, I abandoned my head-measuring attempts, opting instead to learn where the demon dog had fled by peering out every upstairs windows before reluctantly heading to the basement in the direction of the sound. By the time I reached the back door, the dog was zipping wildly back and forth in the yard, my husband unsuccessfully trying to lure it back indoors as the other dog yelled at the impropriety of the younger dog’s behaviour. When the younger dog spotted me, he smiled ecstatically and began to run towards me before making a sudden 90 degree angle turn and flying over the fence, at which point he proceeded to giddily run around both cars and people.

Eventually the husband successfully captured the wildebeest and trapped it in the back room, so he figured it was a good time to mount a wall decoration that I’d asked him to put upstairs. Given that I was the one who had asked him to do so, it hardly seemed like a good idea to abandon him in favour of returning to my e-mail quest, so I joined him as he arranged a faux succulent garden in the guest bedroom.

We’d made it to the moss-decorating portion of this project when a far-away, indignant bark from Other Dog was heard. I went back into the basement, fully expecting him to be waiting to be let in through the back door, only to realize that he was actually on the far side of the yard, staring into the adjacent yard. I managed to coax him inside, but as he’s older, the straight shot up the basement stairs is daunting to him, and his solution was to plant himself squarely in the center of the bottom step without budging, thereby also preventing me from passing him. After several minutes of trying to unsuccessfully convince the older dog that going upstairs would be rewarding, I tried to flatten myself against the wall to get around him, which he found unacceptable. He inched forward at this point while doing everything in his power to keep me somewhere behind him on this prolonged trip up one flight of stairs.

When Second Dog FINALLY reached the top of the stairs, the husband decided to let First Dog out of his temporary confinement. And it was at this point that I thought with some resignation that I might as well set up my new workstation in the room that First Dog had been occupying. A newly noted problem? No HDMI mini port! By this time, I was roaring audibly with frustration, so the husband helped by fetching a cable out of the basement for me. In a normal situation, this would’ve been a helpful effort, but what actually transpired is that both dogs dutifully followed their leader into the basement in what I feared would be a repeat of the earlier Houdini incident. Mercifully, the husband returned with both an HDMI cable and the more destructive dog, so all seemed well! I set about plugging the other laptop in, testing the speakers, and fine tuning my settings when I heard yet another distant bark. I had forgotten that the older dog had gone back into the basement, and in a panic, thought that he’d been locked in or gotten stuck. Instead when I opened the door into the basement, I looked down the stairs to find him smiling broadly back at me.

I’ve mentioned that Samoyeds can be a tad destructive, yes? The smile worried me, so despite the older dog not appearing in distress, I felt compelled to go back downstairs to make sure he hadn’t vomited, urinated, or pooped anywhere. To my misery, I realized that the dryer was nearly done with its current cycle, so why not save myself a trip to the basement by waiting for it to finish and hauling the laundry upstairs.

By this point, I had thoroughly forgotten about the e-mail I had set out to write. Fortunately, the laundry heap was headed for the same room as the original laptop.

When I finally gotten around to sending my lengthy response, an entire hour had passed.

Hi NAME REDACTED!

Sorry for taking forever to respond.  I’m digging the one NAME REDACTED recommended, the Boina Elósegui – modelo Che (https://www.lafavoritacb.com/boina-elosegui-modelo-che), if you haven’t ordered yet.

Also, THANK YOU both for the Yayoi Kusama tickets!!  I’m incredibly excited to go see it, especially after missing the Infinity Mirrors exhibit.  I’m also extremely happy to not have COVID, for that matter.  Thank you again!!  😀

My new typing speed? 67 words per hour. I’m a pretty awesome snail, all said.

Arcade Fire: The Wilderness Downtown