I love Charlie, but she is sometimes way too smart. For instance, I learned today that she knows how to turn a small crack in a window into a large gap where she can get on the roof.
Yes, on the roof.
It’s starting to warm up here in Atlanta – as in, there is no more excuse to avoid any type of outdoor work. Which in part is great, because I really need to finish the exterior trim work. But then of course, that also means I have to get on scary ladders again.
I decided it was time (or rather, couldn’t justify putting it off any longer) to sweep new pine straw buildup off my roof while I was waiting on some joint compound to dry in the bathroom. The straw accumulates pretty regularly thanks to several pine trees in both my front and back yards. While I have gutter guards, the excess pine straw eventually will cake on them and make them ineffective.
To get at the roof on the first floor, I only have to open the window in my bedroom and climb out (last year, I’d spent several days climbing ladders, then eventually figured out that the screens do pop out after all).
So there I was, sweeping pine straw off the roof, and I look to my right… and I see Charlie. I didn’t even hear the jingling of her collar when she climbed over the open window sill and climbed out onto the roof with me.
Panicked (but trying not to freak her out), I sat stunned for a second. She seemed cool as a cucumber while my heart dropped to my stomach. I coaxed her back inside and shut the window with a small crack (so I could get back in) to continue my work. After several minutes, I’d sweeped off everything from the front. The back of the roof had a larger amount of pine straw, so I crept up and over the top to get to the other side. Sweeping took a good ten minutes, but as I finished the last of it, I heard a click click click behind me.
The small gap I’d left myself to get back into the house was now forced open. And once again, Charlie was chilling out on the roof as if it was no big deal.
She’s totally mocking me in this one.
I had a much harder time coaxing her back into the house a second time, and a near-jump attempt that almost made me lose. my. shit. But not before I snapped a few photos (hey, when your dog does something this bizarre, and then refuses to come back inside, what else can you do?). By the way, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON THE ROOF?” is not a command dogs know how to respond to.
Charlie and I are both just fine, but I guess now I have two funny roof stories associated with this house. And Charlie will be in her crate whenever I’m on the roof.