Roof. Woof.

In an uncharacteristic display of responsibility, I decided to have my roof redone. There are shingles missing and the house was built in 1995, I think. So it's about time to have the sucker ripped off and replaced. I signed a contract that said something about shingles and felt and clean-up and since there was wind damage, my insurance company is paying for all but half of my deductible. (I talked the construction guy down from the full $1000.)

Today dawned bright and sunny so I got out of bed and walked the dog so I could lock her inside with me through the day. Chienne does like to bark and would likely do so all day if she were free to go outside and stare at the team atop the house. We got home at 7:30 and I took some Advil for a moderate headache. I started to clean a little bit - for my plan is to work on the inside while others fix the outside - and when I saw people moving around out front, I quietly moved a chair in front of her dog door. (I would have used the locking mechanism, but then she would have hurt herself trying to run through it, become afraid of the dog door and I'd have a lasting problem with trying to convince her to ever go outside again.)

As soon as I moved the chair, Sprout sought refuge under a bed. Chienne, however, looked momentarily befuddled before starting to bark at random. She pranced between the living room and kitchen, woofing at her inability to reach her fenced yard.

"Look out front, genius," I finally suggested and she became as fluffy as she's capable (poor short-haired thing) while braying at the men spreading tarps over the lawn. Despite repeated assurances that she is fine and they're supposed to be there, her fur on her back stood on end and she continued to bark.

Finished with spreading the tarps, the team of people has ascended a ladder and are thumping and moving atop my home. Not having visual contact, the barking has slowed to muffled 'mmphs' interspersed with much whining. After much deliberation, she has settled on looking worried and watching out the front window. The roof guys must be magical in her mind since they are making sounds she can't quite localize (they're all over the house) and they have become invisible. Occasionally, she comes to sit by me to make sure I'm aware of the current situation.

For my part, I can look at the window at the top of my door and see someone in white shoes with black markings bending to strip shingles off the garage. He makes it look rather effortless - I imagine that takes strength and skill. There are thumping and scraping sounds, but it's not nearly as loud as I'd expected. Perhaps when they begin pounding the new roof on, I'll grow weary of the experience. In the interim, I hope to get my house cleaned and perhaps read a book.

I fear Chienne's day won't be as pleasant. Her ears are perked and her whimpers are soft, broken only by a warning woof when the noises get too loud. She now watches the chimney in the event that someone tries to invade via that route. Poor girl.