Long, long ago in a garage not so far from here. . .
. . .my grandfather built a doghouse for my childhood dog. Like most of Gramp’s carpentry, it was built from available materials and it was built to last. Mitzi the miniature beagle spent many sunny afternoons in it. It was painted red to match our house and barn.
Later, when I was in high school, the doghouse had a new tenant. Tigger the wire-haired dachshund spent many sunny afternoons in its shade. We repainted it blue and white to match our then-current home.
After Tigger passed on it sat alone, forgotten and rotting in the back yard until Cricket joined our family. My parents offered it to us for her. Time had not been kind to our doggie heirloom. The sills were rotten, the door was falling off, and the roof was more concept than reality. We brought it home and went to work.
“We have the technology. We can rebuild it.”
Out came the Sawzall. The entire structure was shortened by about 2 inches. It had been ridiculously tall for a dachshund anyway. We installed new sills and a new floor. The roof was reshingled. The front door was replaced. In finest ‘Gramp’ fashion, it was all reconstructed from available, salvaged materials.
I slapped a coat of primer on it and gave it to the dog. She loves it.
Tuesday Beth helped with the final coat of color, and today I finished the trim. The Six Million Dollar Doghouse lives!