Cuckoo

A few weeks ago I hung the cuckoo clock that used to belong to my grandparents.  I had always wanted a cuckoo clock and was so excited to finally get it up.  Shortly after hanging it, we discovered that it wasn't working quite right- I couldn't set the time, it only chimed on the quarter hour and even then only one door opened.  I found a guy on the Internet who fixes cuckoo clocks and, while kind he was of expensive, I was ready to package it up and send it off to him.  That is until Art told me that every time the clock chimed it scared the bejesus out of Buddy, and because he is confined to the kitchen and dining room (where the clock is hanging) during the day, Art didn't think it was nice to keep the clock going. At least we discovered this before we spent the money to have the clock fixed.


While I think that Buddy should just get used to it, Art's theory is that since Buddy hasn't figured out that things like thunder, lightning, and sudden movements aren't going to kill him, it's unlikely that he will ever get used to a chiming clock.

Our lives are dictated to us by our dog.