Junkyard dogs

I killed the drivers seat in my van this morning. With no warning, as I got into the van, the seat back suddenly crashed backwards, reclining fully. And it wouldn’t come back up. I ended up driving it home with the seat back down and me perched on the seat trying to stay upright – which isn’t easy. When I got home I was able to get the seat up and prop it temporarily in place using a snow brush wedged against the seat behind….not exactly safe.

What to do? Especially since there truly isn’t any extra money in the budget for such emergencies. The solution? A wrecker. One of those people who buy older bashed up cars, strip them down and sell the parts. Surely someone would have a spare seat. I didn’t care what colour, just give me a seat. So I phoned around. The first place had one, $50 if I took it out of the vehicle it was in, $75 if they took it out. (And I’d still have to hope Paul had the time and skill to install it into my van before I try to drive north on Friday.) Thank you very much. Next? The next place didn’t have any Caravans in at the moment. Thank you, next? And that’s where I hit paydirt. Yes, they had two Caravans in , both with seats, and I could come and pick out which grey was closest! The price? $40 and he’d take it out for me. Which still left me hoping Paul could install it, but hey, at least I’d have a seat!

So off Sean and I headed to the junkyard. We actually drove past it the first time because the street number in the phone book did not match the number on their 911 sign, and I also missed the name on the garage hidden behind the house. On our second pass we saw it and pulled in, to be greeted by a friendly grey tabby cat and a bulldog type creature who was also very friendly. Dog number one.

A man named Henry took me down to the row of vehicles and showed me the two options in grey seats. The second one was a perfect match, and when he realized I had the van with me, he said to go up and get it and he’d pop the seat in for me as well! Which he did. And while he was doing that, a large brown dog with four white socks came along and began barking. And barking. And he kept on barking. I was remembering all the stereotypes about junkyard dogs, when Henry told us that wasn’t their dog – he belonged to the horse farm next door. And someone else came out and chased the barker away, which was nice. Dog number two, gone.

So Henry got my broken seat out, and easily installed the replacement seat, and the final charge was $50, including seat and labour. No charge for being barked at. I know where I’ll be going if I ever need anything similar again.

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