Remember that old Steve Martin film
The Jerk? (I have to be careful here, Steve is a
neighbor of mine; he lives on the other side of Mt. Pisgah in Brevard.) Most people know him by his comedy, but around
here his fame also incorporates his band, the Steep Canyon Rangers, and his
considerable talent as a bluegrass banjo player. Where was I?
Oh yeah, The Jerk. My point about that old movie is the nearly-famous
line, “The new phonebook is here. I’m somebody!” Well, after more than a month of trying, I
finally got the beloved United States Postal Service to update their computer
to recognize my new address as a legitimate destination. Yes, at long last, I am somebody.
Don’t get
me wrong, I have been receiving mail all along.
The mailman and the local post office knew I was here, the electric
company, DirecTV and UPS had no problem finding me, but for Fed Ex, Office
Depot and scores of other businesses that automatically verify addresses, I was
nemo, phasma, a non existentibus
persona. (I’ll let you dig out your high school Latin books for that.)
So now that
I’m really here, I can resume my
practice of the late afternoon mail run.
Not exactly an easy task at this new house; the mailbox is a full ½ mile
away. And although that might make for
an enjoyable stroll when the weather is good, that short walk would also take
me down about 500 feet in elevation. Getting
down there would probably be alright, but coming back…!
Even my
driveway here is a bit arduous; it is almost 100 yards long, has a 90 degree
turn near the top, and drops about 8 stories.
From the house, you really can’t see down the drive except for the last
steep segment after the turn. Twice I
have been startled by an unexpected knock at the front door from an unheard
visitor. This prompted me to order and
install an infrared sensor at the gate that triggers a chime in the house anytime
someone or something starts up towards the house.
This new toy of mine has been very
convenient at letting me know my wife is home from shopping and needs help with
the groceries, it signals me when UPS is here for a delivery or when a
repairman, workman or neighbor arrives. The only downside is it also picks up any critter
that may venture across my property line.
Honestly, the few “false” alarms have not really been too annoying, but there
is a visiting Angel that seems to enjoy announcing her presence.
It was
during the transitional “moving” days when I was still running truckloads of
“do we REALLY have this much stuff”
over from the other house that I sensed myself being watched. Alone and isolated, that feeling began to
play on my nerves. More than once I
exited the garage searching and listening for whomever it was that was spying,
but each time I saw nothing but an empty driveway and the quiet autumn woods.
It was
after quietly placing a box of Christmas decorations into the storeroom and stealthily
peering back around the corner that I first saw the pure white apparition’s
face with its piercing blue eyes slowly retreating through the side door. I won’t say it didn’t frighten me, but instead
of fleeing or scrambling to find some makeshift weapon, I ran towards the door
to steal yet another look at this mysterious alien. The being knew she had been discovered and
didn’t attempt another silent disappearing act; instead, she stood her ground
and with mesmerizing azure eyes and a silly, toothy grin, Angel began to shake
her entire body.
A tail wag
is hardly enough for this overly affectionate canine to show her pleasure, her greeting
begins at her nose, traverses her neck, across her shoulders, through her torso
finally ending in her raised pointy tail.
Angel doesn’t wag; she wiggles side-to-side like a fish out of
water.
I couldn’t begin to tell you her
breed. She is tall and muscular with an
almost entirely white coat of short hair, broken only by a few large tan spots
on her side. Her physique is thin and agile
and she can scale the steepest grades of these hills with an ease that makes a
mountain goat seem awkward.
The puppy and I hit it off immediately
(I have that way with women). She frequently
comes to greet me at my truck when I arrive home, and after charming my wife
and dog (not so much the cat), she visits often and has adopted our house as
hers. It’s evident that there have been
times when she has come by to say hello but went unnoticed at the front door. So it is no surprise that she has figured out
that by walking through gate and past the sensor, someone always opens the door
and invites her in to play. Her new
trick was very cute the first time, but…
Well, it’s actually cute every time.
I guess
when you live high up in the clouds, it should be expected that an Angel might
come down to visit.
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