The day began with Jeter’s annual veterinarian exam. I’ve been worried about this old guy. He’s showing his age (12+!) on both sides of his skin with internal fatty tumors and external bumps on his skin that I can only describe as wart-ish. Additionally, he’s taken to making the occasional gagging noise, as if he’s preparing to finally speak to me in English, instead of Labrador.
I am happy to report that my old man is doing just fine. I am disinclined to engage in expensive efforts to prolong a pet’s life, particularly after the pet has achieved senior status, and I was relieved to learn that Jeter is looking good.
After pulling up in front of the house, my phone silently exploded in a barrage of texts that can only originate from my middle son, who currently lives in my first floor flat. He smelled a strong sulphur smell. I entered my space and was struck by the same stench.
I called National Grid.
The response time was remarkable. The telephone call to report the issue had been answered by a human, who efficiently assessed the situation and dispatched repairmen to my house. Within an hour, a minuscule gas leak had been located and repaired, a previously unknown plumbing leak had been detected and a subsequent visit from the plumber had been scheduled for the following afternoon.
All of this and it was barely afternoon.
I worked in the evening and, towards the end of service, I witnessed three Albany Fire vehicles pulling out of my neighborhood and onto Delaware Avenue.
My heart was in my throat – had something happened at my house? What if the repairmen missed something or didn’t fix things correctly? Surely, I would have heard the house explode, right?
I texted a neighborhood and was somewhat relieved when she responded to say that it seemed the trucks were next to my house, not at it. I texted my son, who had come home to see the trucks, lights flashing but sirens off, on our small street.
I started breathing again.
On Friday, the handyman came and diagnosed the plumbing issue and resolved the problem. I also had another small task for him and, a mere $200 later, all was good.
The gas leak was scary and I’m really glad that my son demonstrated the appropriate amount of concern when he smelled something. I’m also glad that I called National Grid, despite my skepticism that there was anything wrong.
Not calling would have been stupid. Not only was there a minor problem that would only expand into an even more dangerous problem, the repairmen spotted another thing that needed rapid attention. I probably wouldn’t have known about the drain leak until it had gotten much more serious.
It was a good day. In fact, as the Irish say, it was gas.
DelSo 