Mr. Tux, the rabies series, and a move

I’ve now been through the entire rabies-shot series and coming up on three weeks since the attack. Mr. Tux has been AWOL since that night. My hand has mostly healed and the antibiotics seem to have done their job.

Photo by Juanita Swart on Unsplash

My friend has left the area and moved for adventures in AZ. The last several days were a fight to get her car packed; get settled with what goes and what doesn’t; return the modem; get the house cleaned professionally; and … wait, let’s back up.

I did not have to make the arrangements for the move. I didn’t do the actual loading of the truck. I was there to help with the bits and bobs; prove my talent for spatial analysis and spatial association, plus give moral support.

The movers arrived later than they planned and without two crew members. They worked like dogs, but it was slow going due to the manpower shortage. And the rain. Add to that, the restaurant they ordered from didn’t get the order right.

Photo by Wise Move SA on Unsplash

It was a surprise to us that the movers could not take liquid soap, alcohol, or canned goods. We had already gone through the pantry and taken out what would be needed during travel, but we thought the cans could go. So we culled the leftover unopened liquid and canned goods to take to the local food bank the next day.

One of the guys had a run-in with a lithograph hanging on the stairway wall. The lithograph won. The mover got his hand sliced. Not a good day for the crew.

Monday the cleaning service came to do a move-out clean. My friend and I ran our errands, had lunch at a place we call Panda Dave’s — the best Chinese restaurant in town — and then returned to the house for the final walk through … or so we thought.

The cleaners called to say they had finished. Um, yeah, no. They were paid to clean the basement and to take the trash to the dumpster. They did neither. They were paid to clean the inside of the kitchen cabinets. That was left for us.

By the time we finished, it was 4:00 PM. My friend still had to drive to her sister’s in the Poconos and she was dead tired.

She locked the door and said goodbye to the house that had been her home for about 30 years. Then we said goodbye. I ugly cried a bit. However, the worst of my crying took place after I drove away.

Photo by Zachary Kadolph on Unsplash

I took some vacation time so I could help with the move and then recover. After a week, I’ve almost recovered.

I was awarded the best bonus of all. I got the bottle of Goose Island IPA. I think I might have that with my dinner tonight!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑