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The Great Dremel Caper

Bassets have nails.  Granted all dogs have nails that undoubtedly need trimmed, but basset nails rank somewhere between topaz and the diamond on the Mohs scale of mineral hardness. Should you choose to use nail clippers, you run the risk of nipping the quick and having your dog bleed profusely.  They look sad enough as it is, we don't need to add insult to injury.  The nifty little doggy nail drills on TV are good if you have a small dog made out of porcelain but if you have a basset hound with black nails that thing just doesn't have the juice to get the job done, so I use a Dremel and it works wonders.  However, the Brown family Dremel recently seized up and took a ride to the great Dremel playground in the sky.  So I needed a new one.

 

Shopping online is marvelous.  I thoroughly enjoy buying things without wearing pants.  Call me old fashioned, but whenever given a purchasing choice 'no pants' always beats 'pants.'  So I logged into my favorite home away from home (Amazon.com) and grabbed the Dremel 4000.   It was the only Dremel tool that gave me the impression that if I didn't keep this thing locked up it would wake itself in the middle of the night and Dremel my face off.  Powerful enough for the toughest of basset nails.

 

I have ordered 1000 things from Amazon and I have never had a shipping problem.  That's probably because most of the items I order are shipped via UPS or FedEx.  I received a tracking number that the item was coming from good old Uncle Sam himself, the USPS.  So instead of 'What can Brown do for you' I had a heartwarming feeling that a member of my own community working for the government would take great care in delivering my parcel:

The Amazon tracking said it was delivered Tuesday May 10.  Well there was still no package on the 11th so I called the post office.  I can assure all of you wondering at home that this is a tightly run ship.  I was in good hands, as I spoke to a man named "Gene" who assured me he would get to the bottom of my missing Dremel.  I envisioned my good friend Gene at the post office:

 

Well Gene was a liar.  He never called back.  I called back the next day and spoke to Gene again.  He had no recollection of talking to me.  Perhaps I am going crazy?  I told Gene the entire story again, and he put me on hold.  A few minutes later he comes back on the phone and tells me that on the day my package was to be delivered I had a substitute mail carrier who probably just forgot to put the key in my "mail cluster."

 

 

He said my normal mail carrier would get it all squared away, and not to fear!  I was still in good hands, my normal carrier would save the day!

 

 

Well another day goes by and no calls or packages.  I call back and some lady puts me on the phone with my subsitute mail carrier who tells me he took extra care in hand delivering my package on the 10th!  Our conversation went EXACTLY like this:

Clavin: "I knocked on the door but you weren't home.  So I went around to your back door and put your package on your back porch."

Me: "I don't have a back porch.  I live in a townhouse."

Clavin: "Ha!  I guess I delivered it to the wrong address!  That's funny!"

Me: "uh, I don't think that's very funny. Those were my anti-anxiety meds in that package.  Now I have to wear a tin foil hat.  Tin foil hats are not funny."

Clavin: "Oh I'm sorry. Tell you what, Do you know where 5185 Waterfront Ct is?  I'm sure that's where I delivered it."

Me: "Seriously?  You want me to go around the neighborhood and knock on doors asking if anyone has my junk?"  Just who does this guy think I am?

 

Long story short... Clavin finally went out and found my package and delivered it a mere five days and four phone calls after the tracking number said it was delivered.  Good old Uncle Sam.  I wonder if my mail carrier is going to appear on Jeopardy.  Has anyone been in his kitchen?