Part of our house was without electricity yesterday. We looked in the junction box or whatever it is, and couldn't figure it out, so this morning I called Ellis, our handyman.
I absolutely adore Ellis. He is nothing much to look at (neither am I), but he keeps his promises, does good work, remembers (most of) the dogs' names, and likes to talk about books.
Ellis came to fix the problem this afternoon while I was at the chiropractor. When I got home, there was a much-chewed extension cord on my place at the dining table and an entry for a $72.50 check in the checkbook.
When I caught up with Mr. P., he reported that Ellis had found and fixed the problem quickly, and when he produced the chewed electrical cord, said, "This musta zapped the shit outta that dog!"