[Dailydrool] Storm in Nutley

[dpmcquade at juno.com]

On Tuesday, a microburst hit our town and turned it into a disaster area (really, that's more than a metaphor). Ninety percent of the town ended up without power. The top of a town tree landed in our front yard, with one branch piercing our roof. The tree's canopy landed all over, downing our electrical wires.

As the storm started, Drew had looked out the window and told me we had to go in the cellar. Well-trained slave that I am, I told him Abner, who can't do stairs, couldn't make it. So I ended up in the bathroom with two of the dogs while Abner escaped me and stood at the bottom of the living room stairs, looking longingly at the upstairs hall, his favorite place when storms come. Partway through the storm, I went out to grab him. Jane escaped, and it took me a while to get her back again. By the time everyone was in the bathroom, the storm was gone. The cat never came in with us, which may have been a good thing, since we would have had a war in that small space!

Drew had gone into the cellar and avoided the whole contretemps.

I guess this shows us we need to establish a storm plan. But we were all perfectly fine. The house took the brunt of the storm, and even our cars were pretty much untouched--something truly miraculous, since large branches missed them by inches.

The cat was fine too.

We have spent the last few days getting the power back and dealing with contractors and insurance folks. It's been a real adventure. 

Abner, who was afraid of storms anyway now seems even more nervous. Jane and Bel were nervous at the second storm that passed through but seem to have decided all is OK, if last night's storm is anything to judge by.

Not everyone in Nutley is fine. Some folks had their homes split by tall trees. We are thankful no one was killed. And we feel blessed that our damage was minor, compared to what others have suffered.

The dogs took it all in stride, and at three o'clock Wednesday morning the fire department cleared a path from our door, down the doggie ramp, and out to the lawn, so Abner could get to do his business (at least, that's what Abner thinks). We appreciated their service and the dedication that spurred them on.

Up until that point, every time I tried to explain why the hounds couldn't go out, I couldn't get past the fact that my words didn't make sense. How can you tell a dog that it can't go out because a tree is up against the door? All three kept looking at me as if I were crazy.

Maybe I was, but we know some drool must have been flying through that storm on Tuesday, because everything turned out OK.
Pam, with Drew, food slave to the Dashing Bassets






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