For no good reason I started the four-wheeler up at one of my paint breaks. Having started it, I loaded it into the pickup. With the storm approaching, there was no point in taking it anywhere for a ride, so I took it to Harley Davidson Karst Motorsports for an oil change. I wanted to give them business because they really stick up for their customers. A few weeks ago, a cop followed some Hell's Angels who had breezed through a light turning red, into their parking lot. The mechanic came out and asked the officer to take his road stop elsewhere. One of the bikers said "Hold on, Barney Fife will be all done in a minute". The mechanic decided to push the issue and before it was over, he got tasered and taken to the hoosegow. I asked them to check why my brake light is always on and to see if they think there's a clickity clack in the drive train somewhere. I expect there'll be a $250 charge before this is done but I'm happy to support a small businessman who'll go to the mat for their customers. We'll be ready for tooling around next weekend at Pathfinder Reservoir and at Atlantic City the weekend after.
Spook is underfoot everywhere. Dix was weeding the lilacs and he was curled up in a ball amongst the tall grass. I was putting the trailer hitch housing back together after charging the batteries and found him under the cover.
Later as I entered the house, he came storming out after having scarfed down all of Pyrites wet cat food. I don't know how he got in the house. Momma Squirrel has pretty well accepted him as a non-threat although he can get her to jump two feet by flicking his tail. As I write this, he is sitting on the bench watching the progress of my barbecuing chicken and brats. I think we get closer to our pets the more infirm and dependent upon us they are.
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