My purple Dyson Animal vacuum cleaner, that is. The head mover told me about it after they finished moving everything in. Compared to the mess they had already made of the move, this was a nit. The short version is:
They loaded up on Tuesday. I said to the moving company, "I have a lot of books and a very heavy marble table. Shouldn't someone come out and take a look?" Naah, since they were going charge this by transport fee and time, they didn't need to estimate weight. FYI, transport fee and time can be a better deal when you have a 15,000 pound household. Late Tues. afternoon, it was evident that the truck was too small. Head mover says, "That's why I built this 4 ft. ramp on the back." They proceeded to attach that and build a tower of objects fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle. Very proud of themselves. I called the company to complain.
They set off with the tower, a birdcage (empty) and my office chair hanging off the back, looking like a large family escaping the Dust Bowl of Oklahoma. They were going to reach Seattle the following afternoon.
Late Wednesday morning I received a phone call. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," said the dispatcher, "but the truck was 2,000 pounds overweight. The weigh station fined them $600 and won't let them continue until we send up another truck and redistribute the load." Then we renegotiated the fee and thus begins a long, dreary fight with the moving company. Fortunately, because they were recommended by a realtor who does a lot of business with them, I was able to sic the realtor after them and she is going to work on the problem. Her nickname is "The Pit Bull," bless her.
After calling with progress reports, the movers decided at 9:30 pm that they were not going to get here until the next day, which they finally did. Every time I move, I hear, "Gee, you have a lot of books," and/or "You have a lot of stuff." I have a lifetime of stuff and still have a lot of my late husband's lifetime of stuff. I get along well with the men doing the punishing work of carrying heavy objects because I don't get upset with them and I tip nicely. (Pizza helps, too.)
Only as the last papers were signed did I hear about the box that fell off the truck and got backed over. The clothes in the box were OK, just dusty; but the hat rack, hair dryer, and expensive vacuum cleaner were roadkill. He would forward an insurance claim form. It says on the Dyson website that their vacuum cleaners are made from the kind of plastic used in helmets. This means that your Dyson can survive a fall off the truck but it will be crushed if you run over it.
That vacuum cleaner was the most frequently used tool I owned. During its short life, it sucked up many pounds of dog hair, cockatiel and parrot feathers, seed hulls, bird food thrown on the floor, house dust, and about half the backyard dirt. I never measured the height of the backyard dirt but I am sure the dogs lowered the level by a good inch from tracking it into the house.
R.I.P., Dyson Animal, Rest In Pieces.
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