Always Something

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but we have somewhat of a pet cemetery at the Ranchito. If Rodrigo has to put down a dog or cat, the owners frequently don’t have the space to bury their beloved pet. For 500 pesos we’ll buy a tree and bury your pet beneath. This is a service for Rod’s clients and helps us green-up the ranchito.

I was not quite over my cold when Rod announced that we had a rather large dog to bury, one that had been put down at one of his colleague’s offices. Being it was late on Friday, we had no gardener to dig the hole. Being that I was still sick, I had no intention of helping. However, Saturday morning I did go out to buy the tree, a “pirul” or pepper tree (not pictured above, that is an olive tree) that stretched the whole length of the interior of the Pathfinder, the branches hitting me in the head as I drove home.

When I returned Rod had begun digging the hole. I pulled the car up near the site and withdrew the tree. I hesitated a moment to watch Rod’s efforts, his thin arms grasping the handle shovel. He fell a little each time he jumped on the shovel to widen the hole. Manual labor is not his strong suit and I could see the writing on the wall (or, in this case on the soil).

As I drove up to the house to unload the rest of the plants that I had purchased, it began to rain. Rod abandoned his digging and took shelter inside on the couch, where he promptly fell asleep. I took shelter in the potting shed where I planted seeds in peat moss pots in anticipation of spring planting.

The rain subsided about the same time that I finished my planting and I returned to the house. Rod told me that the other veterinarian had called, and said that the dog was beginning to smell. It was also getting late in the day and the sun was fading. “Go get the dog or we’re going to be burying it by flashlight and we’ll look like the grave diggers in “Kill Bill 2”. So off he went and I donned my gloves and set out to finish the task that he had begun, the soil now wet and heavy from the rain.

Rod returned just before sunset and we rapidly went to work, racing against the sun. Then the rain started again. No choice, we had to finish and did shortly after sunset, dripping wet and covered in mud. When we returned to the house, the power was out.

The power remained out for the next three and a half days. We alternated between brown-outs and complete black-outs. With no power we have no pressure pump and therefore no water pressure. Without power, the front gate doesn’t open by remote. And it rained and rained. Every leak in the house reappeared and we picked up a few new ones. We were cold and wet. Showers with abysmal pressure offered no relief. We had no television, music or computers to entertain ourselves. Dogs and cats were wet and smelly and left muddy footprints on the tile floors. At one point I simply yelled, “I want to go someplace where it is warm and everything works!”

Monday evening, the ranchito still in darkness, Christine came by to borrow the Pathfinder. The next day she needed to show some houses and the Pathfinder would be more comfortable for her clients than her truck. (They are wealthy gay men who have a home in Fort Lauderdale, another in Provincetown and looking for a third in San Miguel.) We had a candlelight dinner, I gave her the key and off she went.

The next morning we received a call from Christine. She was double parked outside her office and the Pathfinder would not start. (Fortunately, her morning appointment had canceled but the two men were still scheduled for 11:30.) I told her where to find the number for the repair shop and she called. I jumped in the X-Trail and headed to the bank, filled up with gas and took money to the clinic where Rod was meeting with his landlord.

Christine called my cell phone. They diagnosed the problem but couldn’t fix it on the street. The Pathfinder would need to be towed to the shop. I told her where to find the phone number for the emergency towing service provided by my insurance company and hung up. A few minutes later she called back. Since the Pathfinder is four wheel drive, they needed a special tow truck that would have to come from Celya, an hour away. “Fine,” I said, “I’ll pick up you and your clients and be your driver.”

Being there is no parking in downtown, I drove in circles until Christine’s clients arrived at her office. She called my cell phone and I met them on the corner. As she climbed into the car, Christine said, “The first tow truck from Celya got in an accident so they had to send another. It will be here in an hour or two. But your car is not blocking any other cars now. I’ve told the Transito officer so you won’t get a ticket and my office staff is watching out for the tow truck.”

(We looked at houses in the $500,000 to $750,000 USD range and while they were all big, only one out of four would be anything I would consider. And of course it was the most expensive.)

Our power is back and the Pathfinder has a new starter. It has stopped raining and I’ve met with the architect who built our house and he is going to get me an estimate for a roof up-grade that includes insulation and skylights. I am nearly over my cold.

I’m reminded of stories where gringos are driven back to the states, frustrated by the inconsistent infrastructure in Mexico. This week I could relate.