Dear Readers,

Well, Momma and I have had a rocky few days. It all started when she backed her Tesla out of the garage a couple of weeks ago. She was greeted with a message on Sparky’s computer screen screaming something like “tire pressure extremely low, pull over to a safe area immediately!” She also noticed that the car felt rather wobbly, so she promptly put it in park, did a walk-about (as we Aussies say), and saw that the right front tire was flat as a pancake.

Seriously, Tesla? she thought, quick to blame Sparky itself. What was in the tire anyway, a bicycle tube? It seemed to her, in her experience with flat tires, that the tire would gradually go low and she usually had a chance to limp along to a service station — or to one of those air machines so she could inflate the tire until she could have it fixed! And what ever happened to airless tires that never go flat? One would think that the highly technical and forward-looking Tesla would have such a tire, no?

Apparently not, the tire was flat and she knew she was going nowhere in it. Unless — maybe there was a spare? First she checked the trunk, finding compartments she didn’t even know existed — but no spare. Then she tried the frunk (front trunk since there was no engine). None there either. Then she wondered, did regular service stations or tire stores even carry Tesla tires? And, furthermore, where would one even find a tire store?

Eventually and inevitably, she was reduced to calling Tesla for help. Except that it’s not always easy to call Tesla, like say it would be to call a Chevy or Ford dealership. She got voicemail which instructed her to use the app for service calls and such. (By this point, I was watching the action unfold since Momma was in the house and not a happy camper.) (“Why, Lina, couldn’t I have bought a normal car?”) (“Because you wanted Dog Mode, Momma.”)

After a bit of fumbling around with the app, Tesla messaged that they were sending a tow truck (flat bed). A tow truck, fumed Momma! What would the neighbors say? And she wasn’t even going to be home because she had a manicure appointment. So she texted back — can’t I schedule the truck for later this afternoon? Too, late, it seems. Tesla ignored her and said Bobby and Steve’s had been dispatched and would be at our house within ninety minutes. She was apparently in the stay position (like I usually am) for now and not going anywhere. “Why is it that all of these uppity companies run by kids refuse to talk on the telephone so one could actually get some answers?” Momma railed to me.

Nevertheless, the die was cast, and ninety minutes later, the tow truck pulled up. All Momma could think of was the fortune this whole process would cost. Maybe if Tesla had listened to her, she could have bought a tire and had someone jack it up and put it on. But, no, the car had to be paraded through the neighborhood on the truck. Here’s the scene in front of our house that day.

Despite all of Momma’s grumbling, things seemed to turn out okay. We got a ride to the dealership the next day with Uncle Ken, Momma’s step son-in-law, and retrieved the car, which appeared to be no worse for the wear. The metal piece they found in the tire had been removed, the tire repaired, and the entire bill was $104.00. (Momma, always the skeptic, is still waiting for the Tesla app to pipe up and say that was just the downpayment.) And here I am waiting for my lift home and so ready to be done with the whole sordid affair.

Health issues & a gift

This has also been a bit of a ruff summer for this little Aussie. First, I have a double coat of fur so am always just cooking, especially in the extreme heat we have been having because of global warming. (“It’s called weather, Lina.”) Then there’s the humidity and the smoke from Canada — also almost certainly attributable to global warming. And then there’s the constant anxiety I experience just by being in Momma’s orbit. And then there’s my size and age. It seems small dogs and dogs of a certain age (a phrase I picked up from Momma), commonly have “reverse sneezing” trouble and also trachea issues.

So I had been experiencing some breathing issues (Momma had even mentioned this to Blue Pearl Clinic in Florida on one of our many vet trips there), and the episodes are getting a little more frequent. The other day, Momma brought me in to to the local vet to discuss that and a litany of other issues she had on her mind. We ended up focusing on the breathing, though, and the vet suggested he take some x-rays of my lungs. He said they seemed to be clear but part of my trachea looked narrow in one of the pictures (but then normal in another). Momma was worried and peppered him with questions. I laid by the door and gave Momma my “we’re done here” look.

We now have an appointment at Blue Pearl in July. I hope it’s not a bad sign that the doctor’s name is Mourning. Just woofin’. In the meantime, just so you don’t worry, Momma is giving me an anti-inflammatory pill and keeping me inside as much as possible and I’m doing much better!

The silver lining in all this is that Momma is feeling a little badly for me, so she gave me an early birthday present. Here I am rocking my new animal print leash and collar (not visible because of my double coat) and mesh halter — the better to stay cool!

Lina, Still living the dream

WOOFDA!