Thanks for the Run

It joined our family about two years ago. We didn't tell many people where we got it: that my dad, on his way to the dump, had spotted it on the curb. He was going to be the good Samaritan and throw it on his load - until the homeowner told him that it worked. Instead of bringing it to the dump, he brought it to us.
We were grateful: a loyal, hard-working, perfectly sized, and FREE fridge. What could be better? Throw in the fact that it was right when we bought our house, and it could be a *little* bit better.
That was then.
This is now. Some of you may remember that one sad day this past summer it just stopped working. After a bit of investigative work, Rod found out that this was the problem:

We borrowed a hair dryer (it's true, I don't own one), and with great hope thawed it out. It worked like a charm.
For a little while. The problem was that it just kept on over-freezing - or under-thawing, however you want to look at it. It got to the point that about once a month we had to clear out the freezer, take it apart, take out the hairdryer and melt the ice build up. We even bought a hair dryer, since we needed it so often. The fridge ran constantly and was, in the end, an energy hog.
And so, a week ago we got a replacement. It's nice enough, but it's not Old Faithful.
Old Faithful, sadly, is sitting outside the front door in the snow - and has been for the past week - waiting to be brought to the new "home." Classy. With a capital "C."
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, curb to curb.