by Joe Velasquez

Created on: November 08, 2008

As the weather warmed I found myself looking back on the last Idaho
winter with fond memories. Notice I did not say "warm" memories. Over the last couple of weeks of February in particular, the only thing that I remember warmly is my wood stove. Well, that and a particular propane heater.

It was a Tuesday morning in February at 05:15 when I was preparing to leave for work. As I ventured outdoors to feed my animals, something very strange occurred. As is my usual practice I gave a low whistle to wake the dogs, but my whistle made no sound.

Pursing my lips, I gave another whistle; this one intended to be somewhat louder, yet still, there came no sound. Of course, this alarmed me, as whenever I have needed it my whistle has always been robust.

Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery of my missing whistle, I turned on the floodlights, and walking into the garage, I took hold of a portable propane heater. I then went back outside and tried a third time to whistle, this time letting loose with a mighty, two-fingers-in-the-mouth, ear-splitting blast. Or so I assumed. Again, nothing happened. No sound at all, just the deafening cold. But the light showed me something I had not noticed in the darkness. There, hanging in the air like little frosted clouds, wispy vapors of steam rising from them, were all three of my whistles. Frozen in place, right where I had blown them.

Igniting the heater, I held it up to the first whistle and sure enough, as soon as the heat hit it my whistle thawed and could be heard quite clearly. This woke up the dogs, who naturally came trotting out to investigate.

Intrigued, I stepped up to the second frozen whistle and gave it a blast of warm air. Again, upon thawing my whistle sounded, loud and clear. The dogs, already at my feet, look up inquisitively. Their cocked heads indicating they were clearly perplexed as to why I would whistle to them a second time when they were already present. Ignoring their questioning eyes, I stepped up to the third whistle and with no thought of how hard I had blown it, I hit it with the propane heat. Just as it began to thaw I realized the consequences of my action.

The high-pitched shriek that ensued awakened every dog in the neighborhood, along with the neighbor's herd of beef cattle. While it's highly unlikely, it's also remotely possible that the third whistle would not have awakened my still-sleeping wife and daughter. The cacophony of barking and mooing however, did just that.

Neither the dogs, nor I (nor even perhaps the cattle, though I didn't ask them), can figure out why those two ladies awakened so cross. After all, their alarm was going to ring in 45 minutes anyway. I figure it must have been the cold. Twenty below zero will do that to some folks.

Lucky for Me, I still had some propane left in that heater. It came in handy that night in the doghouse.

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