In Memoriam: my Eureka Boss Smart Vac (2007-2018)

You survived five cats, acre upon acre of cat hair coating the carpet and furniture, and an untold weight of scattered cat litter. Oh, and a couple of visiting dogs. Vac4

You survived being bashed into furniture, although we never did find that broken off piece of the HEPA filter cover.

You survived sucking up cat toys, cheerios, and maybe even a couple of earrings (yes – you’re still professing your innocence on that). Did you suck up that broken piece of the filter cover too?

You survived running over my toes (no – my toes have not forgiven you).

You survived being dragged up and down the stairs even though you weren’t really built for that.

You survived replacement part after replacement part, including off brand parts when I couldn’t find Eureka ones.

You even survived the great Douglas Fir tree disaster of Christmas 2012, and being subsequently disassembled as I dug out every f***ing Douglas Fir needle gumming up your innards. (Never again!)

But, alas, I fear you cannot survive this malfunction of the on/off switch. What we hoped was just a stuck switch was revealed to be a failure in the electrical wiring. (By the way, cracking open this section of the vacuum is NOT included in the owner’s manual – probably for good reason – so don’t try this at home, kids.)

Are the wires supposed to cross over one another? The upper wire appears to have rubbed off the black coating from the lower one. Vac1

More importantly, is the connector on the left supposed to look like that? or is the plastic melted through? (Yes, the vacuum was unplugged during this exploratory surgery.) Vac2

Today we admit defeat, beaten by exposed wires and melted plastic. Not even Consumer Reports’ 2007 top-rated vacuum for pet hair is a match for time and electrical shorts. And, so it sits in the corner, alone, while the cats celebrate the demise of the “monster” (silly kitties – they forget they get extra treats after being terrorized on vacuuming day).

We bid adieu to “The Boss.”

Boy does the carpet look terrible.

And I’m sure there’s still more of those f***ing Douglas Fir needles hiding in some crack or crevice.

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The Best Christmas Ever

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Presents under the tree, turkey in the oven, friends and family gathered ‘round, phone calls from loved ones far away. These are the kinds of things which make a perfect Christmas.

But the perfect Christmas isn’t always the best Christmas – that one Christmas which remains in the forefront of your memory.

I usually spend my holidays with good friends who ‘adopted’ me into their family years ago. And it’s usually a rollicking good time: food, laughter, some liquor, playing with the kids, playing games ranging from Fluxx, to Munchkin, to Chez Geek, to Battle Cattle, to Give Me The Brain.

But last year, those four “disease vectors” (otherwise known as my friends’ four young children) had brought home a nasty flu bug which was making its rounds through the family. They didn’t want to infect anyone else. Christmas got cancelled.

I thought about making other plans, but I knew that 2012 would be the last Christmas for my beloved cat, Turtle. She was 16 and her kidneys were failing. And she was painfully thin. I decided to stay home and devote my holiday to her.

I tried to get her interested in the cat toys I opened, but it was the other three kitties who pounced on the fluffy mice and wrapping paper. Turtle only wanted to climb into my lap. laptime So after all the gifts were opened, and my hot chocolate all gone, I put on a DVD and we cuddled in the big chair. She was never much for curling up into a ball on my lap except on occasion. So she took her usual position: stretched out across my torso, her head resting on my right shoulder.

(As a kitten, Turtle would plant her face in the side of my neck while kneading it with her paws and sucking on my skin. [I’m told that’s a sign she was weened too early.] Ever since, she’s been most comfortable when she’s as close as possible to my face. We would often sleep cheek to cheek.)

So we spent Christmas like that, her face next to mine, my arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was the last day I heard her purr. And it was the best, most rewarding, Christmas I’ve ever spent, for she would be gone eleven days later.

Sometimes you don’t need to do anything for Christmas except spend some time with a loved one: person or pet. And you don’t need to give anything except some love. Image