Sentry

I have talked about my dogs a lot. If you are tired of hearing about good dogs, turn your computer off now. If you want to hear another story of Bear, read on.
As you know, Bear went with me everywhere. He went with me to work nearly every day. I had this, used to be, Frito Lay step van. He would ride with me curled up on the floor beside me or he would jump up onto the motor cover and peer out the windshield. He had a sense of when we were almost at a destination and would be up looking out whenever we arrived someplace. The guys at the lumber store always had to pet Bear. He knew in an instant if someone belonged. I do not ever remember him barking at a co worker. He just knew.
When I would get to a job, I would leave him with the van with all the doors open. I had thousands of dollars of tools and supplies, yet I did not worry about theft. One look at Bear would send a would-be burglar away.
Well one day we were parked in front of the Postal Building in downtown Portland, Oregon. Bear was rather bored watching the van and had fallen asleep stretched out in the middle of the walkway in the back. I would come and go for tools and such and he would open one eye and go back to sleep.
As I was coming out of the Postal Building for something I noticed these two young boys walking along the street rubbing a stick on the side of each car as they came to it. They approached the van from the back end and rubbed the stick along the side of my van. They were met at the front door by Bear. He said one big Woof. That was enough for these nice young boys to fill their pants and run for their lives. Bear looked over at me, wagging his tail. All I could do was laugh as I told Bear he was a Good Dog.
I was convinced that I had the best sentry in the World.
Kayak Bandit

Bear Sliding

Bear would do anything for me and my two daughters. When we would go to the park, Stephanie and Jennifer, loved to play a few minutes on each of the structures. From our home, the closest structure was the slide. They would run ahead and crawl up the ladder and wait at the top. They would encourage their sister to climb. "One more, Jenny. You can do it."
Bear would follow to the structure and as they went up the slide ladder, he would stand on his hind legs and reach high with his front legs. It was as if he was cheering for them to make it on up. Just as one would start to slide, he would race to the end of the slide and greet them as they lit on the ground. He would escort them back to the ladder and it would start all over.
Eventually, the girls started coaxing him to climb up the ladder. I was fearful he would catch a leg as he was falling and be injured. To prevent this, I would stand behind my ninety pound pooch and make sure he did not fall. Little by little, I helped him learn to hook his front paws over the step instead of on the step. We all encouraged him. Soon he was able to make it all the way to the top, as long as I kept him corralled. After quite a while, with no mishaps, I started letting him climb the ladder without staying behind him.
The first few times that Bear made it to the top, he still had the mindset that it was his job to greet the girls as they slid. He seemed confused. One girl would slide to the bottom and the other would tell bear to go. The girl at the bottom would be coaxing him to "slide". With enough coaxing, Bear would run down the slope of the slide. Try as we might, we never taught him to slide by himself. I even tried holding him on my lap as I slid, but it did not work.
When we went to different parks, we had to assure him to climb up a different slide. The girls were good about asking if the slide ladders were safe for Bear to climb. If they were marginal, I would stay with Bear while he climbed. We sure miss Bear!
Kayak Bandit

Ahh The Memories

When I was newly married and lived in Portland, money was tight. We were remodeling the kitchen on the pay as you go plan. We had two little girls that deserved a full time mom. They got the best one anyone could ask for.
With only one income, we needed to make the money stretch. I was pretty good at buying vehicles that needed repair and fixing them up. Some of these I kept to drive myself, but, mostly resold them for extra money.
I did the same thing with boats. My first boat was a square ended, wooden canoe. I bought it for fifteen dollars. I spent very little on caulking and sandpaper before I painted it a forest green. The paint was given to me and I sold it for forty dollars.
Another money stretching measure was not spending money on entertainment. I am not saying that we were not entertained, exactly. All I am saying is that we did not call what we did for entertainment, "entertainment". Are you confused yet? I'll try to explain.
My accomplice in this was always my brother-in-law, Dick. We were regulars at the Killingsworth Auction. We rarely spent much money. Like I said, we did not have much money. I think at that time, Dick was driving his Volkswagen Van, pulling a trailer, picking up discarded glass and taking it to recycling centers.
So, we would get there and sit high in the bleachers. We usually smuggled something in to snack on and drink. You know, bread and water! Okay, it wasn't quite that bad. Yes, it was actually soda crackers and diluted Kool-Aid. Sorry.
The expensive stuff sold first. You know, like dining room tables made from real fake oak. Or, Bedroom sets. You had to have a math degree to figure out how to bid on stuff like this. You see, the auctioneer would always count up the number of pieces in the set. Say there were six side chairs, two captain chairs and one table. The auctioneer would say "we're sellin' this by the piece and nine times the money". Every so often, someone would get confused with this and not want the set when they understood the total cost. The auctioneer would have to offer it up for auction again. We would look around at other knowledgeable attendees and shake our head in mock disbelief. Now, that is entertainment.
Well the best was yet to come. When the crowd started to thin out, the prices the auctioneer would get for expensive items started to drop. No problem for him. He would always have a big bunch of boxes of junk stored out of sight in the back room. The helpers would start dragging these boxes out front and lining them up on the front of the stage. That would be our signal to move to the front row. Dick and I would put away our contraband and perch as close to these boxes as we could.
Now the auctioneer would say he had to move this stuff and for everyone to be quick with their bids. Dick and I would nudge each other to let the other know about something we saw in a particular box. As they would hurry through these boxes, they would sometimes fail to show all the contents from the bottom of a box. If it was something valuable, we would likely know and the ones in the back would not know. This was the time to pounce.
Say, we believed the drill in the bottom of the box was worth five bucks and the contents that they held up for viewing was worth another three, one of us would open the box bidding at fifty cents. We always felt that set the tone for what others would bid. We believed that they expected us to know the value since we could see it very well. In that case the box would likely sell for a couple bucks. Other times, when we did not want something, we would start the bidding closer to the real value. On these, we would stop bidding after it was opened, so as not to get stuck with something we had paid full price for.
Some times we could come up with a box of stuff valued at ten times the price we paid. Rarely did we end up with a box worth less than we paid.
When ever my dear friend, Dick, the Red Lion Man, and I reminisce, we often talk fondly of those Killingsworth Auction evenings. Ahh the memories. Right, Dick?

Kayak Bandit '(*!*)'