Raggmopp let Sandy sleep in, but once she detected the change in his breathing, the Old English Sheepdog was off the couch and at his face.
"What time is it?"
'Time to go out for a pee'
That wasn't the answer he was looking for, but Sandy had phrased the question to a dog. Time is relative and when it is time to go, it is time to go. They headed down the stairs and through the kitchen. Raggmopp went down the steps off the deck, looked around for ten seconds and ran back. The windchill made the temperature feel like -13 Celsius, despite the sunny morning. Sandy was waiting at the sliding glass door and let the 60 pound dog back into the house. Raggmopp stood as her paws were wiped with one of the white towels that were now dedicated to the dog. Both stainless steel bowls were then cleaned. Fresh water in one; fresh dry dog food in the other. Even though there was still some left, the kibble usually got wet, probably from the dog's hairy beard, so Sandy threw it in the garbage. 'Oh boy.it's dog food again,' Raggmopp thought.
"I never know when you are sarcastic", said Sandy as Raggmopp started eating noisily.
'That's the beauty of that form of humour,' offered the dog. 'The line is from Gary Larson'.
After his decaf coffee was ready, Sandy settled down with the telephone and did the C.N.I.B.. He dialled up a special number that recorded his voice so the blind could find out what was on television that night. Strangely, CAPT TV got extra mention.
"And on seven, at seven, it is EEEE Talk Daily, on CAPT TV!" E was pronounced as if he was screaming in fear, and since he had tried to watch it once, Sandy was easily able to mimic the emotion.
"And it is like, Buffy, the like, Vampire Slayer, on like, 50?"
"Valerie Pringle, 61. Toronto no score."
Actually, thought Sandy, she doesn't look a day over 50.
"Royal Canadian Airfarce and This Hour Has 22 Minutes are repeats from Friday. Cable 8."
Sandy tried to remember that he would have to tape Rick Mercer's new show, Monday Report. He already had the other comedy shows on VHS and as soon as the two hour tape was filled, it would be mailed to Haines City, Florida. His former music teacher from elementary school in Renfrew, Ontario and Steve's wife, went there every winter. There was also small group of other Renfrew residents who had bought at the same park. They passed around the comedy tapes and in that way, they kept up with politics in Canada. Actually, watching comedy on TV was probably a good way to learn about any country's state of affairs. After 20 minutes, Sandy hit the correct buttons to save, and then sent the recording to the server. For the rest of the day, whenever the blind customers wanted to hear what was going to be on TV that night, at least from 7 p.m. to 10:30 p.m., they just dialled up the service. Sadly, if they wanted to know what was scheduled for 10 p.m., they had to listen from the beginning, with the listings starting at seven. It was an awful system. With a push button phone, you'd think there would be a way for the blind to just punch in a time and then hear just the shows that were on for that hour. Argh.
Before heading to work, Sandy took Raggmopp for a long walk. It was still too wet to head along the crushed stone path under the hydro electric lines in Bridlewood, so they stayed on the sidewalks. While trying to read the top half of the Ottawa Citizen through its yellow coin box along Stonehaven, Sandy heard a woman yell, "Buy a paper!" He turned to see Kaydee, the small but vital, weather woman driving to work. He smiled and waved as she took off.
'They let children drive now? Maybe there's a chance for me after all,' said Raggmopp.
"She's well over four feet tall and is married."
'Probably cried when Dalmys' Kids Fashions went under.'
A woman walked around the corner towards them as Sandy ordered, "Stop that".
"He's gorgeous," she said.
"Thank you," said Sandy, adding, "She's pretty nice too." They walked passed the confused woman.
'Why to people assume all dogs are male', wondered Raggmopp.
Sandy let that one go by without comment. He was counting the geese that were flying over Bridlewood. The birds had started to return a week ago. Sandy's new neighbourhood didn't have the mail delivered to the door. Residents had to walk down the street and get the bills at the "Super Mail Box". Canada Post called them that. Certainly, no one else did. There was an advertisement stuck on the box, printed off a computer. It included a fuzzy photograph of a lost cat.
'That's a 'quality' photo! Although it is bad quality. I hope you have better shots of me,' worried the Old English Sheepdog.
"Of course. I'll display them at your funeral."
'You're a great friend.'
"Thank you," replied Sandy, still unable to recognize sarcasm.
Sandy checked for messages before leaving and then left an updated greeting on his phone. "It is Monday, March 15th, just two days before St. Patrick's Day. I'm in training, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you tomorrow, when I sober up." When he arrived at the television station, he had a message. A reminder really. Ottawa Police Staff Srg. Michelle Falklands had organized a media and police event that was set to start at midnight. Every December, Operation Red Nose was set up to help keep drunks from trying to drive home. Sure they could take a taxi, but that meant their car was left at a bar or a friend's house overnight. That situation usually called for a second cab the next day. Operation Red Nose encouraged those who had been drinking to call the volunteer group's phone number and ask for a ride. A car with at least two volunteers would be dispatched to the client's address. The inebriated would get a lift home in his or her own car while the second volunteer would follow to drive the volunteer chauffeur back to the Red Nose office. That way, the responsible clients would not only get home safely, but when they awoke, probably with a hangover, their cars would be there as well! Sandy was the only person from TV to sign up and he met Michelle, another cop and a CKGA reporter in Gatineau. When Sandy arrived at the community centre, he was led into a meeting room. Six people were sitting at a table with enough snack food for sixty. Michelle recognized him and welcomed, "Our only member from television."
"Maybe if you'd told us that there was free food, the media would be here," he countered.
"The food is a surprise." She wasn't sure that local businesses would donate stuff for the volunteers. It was nice when good things happened to good people though. The radio reporter had already interviewed the organizers and was ready to clip a client. As it turned out, the media-cop team only had one call during the early morning hours. Two 19-year-old boys from the same woodworking company, had a goodbye party. One had joined the Canadian Armed Forces and was heading off to camp the next day. The volunteer team of four met the two men at an east Gatineau bar at 1:30 a.m.. With Michelle driving her car and the radio reporter as a passenger, she followed the client's car. The other cop had only joined the service a year before and he drove. Sandy took the front passenger seat while the guys crashed in the back.
"Chauffeurs! Cool. Play some tunes."
"Where to?"
"Maniwaki!"
Argh. It was 130 kilometres almost straight north, on the typical bad Quebec highways. In Ontario, the Ministry of Transport was nice enough to mark any bump on the road with two signs. One was a warning and the other placed at the actual dip. The Belle Province was not as polite. The roads seldom were repaired and a bad stretch was rarely marked. If you did see a "Cahot" sign, you had best slam on the brakes. They were looking at a two hour drive and that was just one way.
"Could you hand me the video cassette box from the glove compartment please?"
Sandy complied with the request from the back seat and within seconds figured out what the boys were doing. The boys didn't realize that the driver was an off duty Ottawa Police officer. The cop spoke about two minutes later when he smelled something.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Sandy turned sideways to stare at the cop. "No. It isn't. O.K.?"
Short sentences, quietly spoken, implied very much.
After dropping off the clients, leaving their car in the laneway of a very nice house on a hill overlooking a lake, the volunteers squeezed into Michelle's car. Surrounded by her collection of frogs, they discussed the trip.
"Can you imagine trying to drive 100 miles north after a night of drinking?"
"I'm afraid of driving these roads in the daylight."
"I thought you handled the marijuana smoking well," praised Sandy.
"What!" exclaimed Michelle.
The young officer told them about the boys rolling a couple of joints.
"They called us because they didn't want to be driving after drinking, so what are we going to do? Arrest them? I don't think so."
"Interesting point. What about the effects of second hand smoke?" she asked.
"You're driving!"
"Ah, chauffeurs."
Originally Posted : 130304
