...and I missed it.
I had put in a nice chunk of work day by mid-morning, when the pace indicated a pausing place and a few moments to sit, have a snack, take a moment to wrap my knees, check emails, relax...
Email revealed a strange message from home, prompting a call. Something I very seldom do from the break room at work. Something about K possibly going back to bed if he couldn't get warm, don't worry if he didn't answer the phone...
Now, I knew the place would be cold. I had put off too long taking the grill tank for the office space heater to be filled, and the empty one sat there staring at me, even as the spare that we were using sputtered to an end of gas and heat before I had a chance to dress in the cold very early morning darkness this morning. Ok, add "take tank to fill" to the after work list and be thankful that the kerosene for the living room space heater wasn't QUITE that empty. There was fuel in the tank (thankfully, as it had warmed the end of the living room sufficiently for me to dress for work, almost comfortably, in a house that had seen overnight lows near zero with no overnight heat) and a bit remaining in the 5 gallon kero can. Yeah, get kero goes on that list too. Bring home the propane from town and load up for kero and diesel for the tractor (snow's a'comin' and Fergie will be our snow removal gal this year) as one should keep the tank full, especially in the winter.
Ok, so I knew there was SOME kero... enough that K should be able to keep the chill off... so what's up?
This is the tale I heard when I called home.
The kero heater was running. K had fed the dogs, done chores and come back in... was in the kitchen, getting his breakfast when the following transpired, all in about a minute. Coffee, the brainless St. Bernard who loves to lay by the heaters, apparently wagged near the kero heater, and somehow got the hair on her tail (which has a matted spot) caught on a prong on the protective grate around the device. Which WAS RUNNING, remember. She felt something on her tail, moved, panicked and ran smack dab into the stacked wood and wire rabbit hutches in the corning of the living room, careened off that (heater in tow, which thankfully had GONE OUT, courtesy of the tipping sensor working as it should. Amazing right there! LOL) and into my 3' square solid oak butcher block table next to the stove in the kitchen, bonking her head. And then careened off that into the fridge, to her left.
All at scared-dog-speed, mind you. Took much longer to write than happen, I am sure.
Fortunately, K was standing there and he was able to grab her (no small task in its own right, as she is not currently dressed in either harness or collar) and hold her with one hand while eventually extracting heater grate prong from tail. Took several tries, he said.
She did spill some small bits of kero in the house and knocked the heater about, but it still works (K tested it after getting the dog calmed down and letting her out for a bit) and after I got home, he checked more closely to make sure the wick and all was still seating properly. It is.
Strange thing is, (remember I said she was the BRAINLESS St. Bernard?) she still insists on laying right next to the heaters. Fortunately, we have not smelled any more singed doggy hair. And I will be cutting that matt out, as soon as it gets warm enough in here, now, for me to change out of my town work clothes.