Who Invited Her?

This freakin’ videocam will be working overtime, one of these days, but. Thanks to the wonders of the internets, I was able to afford something way out of my league. Who knew a gadget this complicated would fit through the tubes. Night-vision should be cool in a room with 50 cats, though. Figured that, in the meantime, I’d take a walk down Memory Lane and rustle up some old stills. I do know my way around an SLR, so get offa my lawn…

Frances. What a bitch! The cats knew she was coming before we did, and they weren’t happy, at all. Started picking fights with each other [over the stoopidest things ("he was licking me." "She started it!")]. Two days prior they began puking their guts out. That didn’t stop until maybe a week after she’d gone. Pussies.

Bro and I had already experienced just about every disaster possible, natural and unnatural. Today, having been through [several minor and] four major hurricanes — three directly in the eye-wall — we agree. No more hurricanes, please. Seriously. Enough is quite enough. The days of preparation, beforehand, and the chaos which follows are nothing when compared to the interminable hours it sounds as though a freight train is but a nanosecond from crashing through the house. Bro’s deaf and it was too loud for his tastes. Said it felt like someone was gunning a Harley between his ears — for fourteen hours.

As Frances left, we took a walk around the neighborhood. Then pulled our jaws off the ground and went back for the camera. Un. Freakin’. Real…

See the “lawn,” above? [click for the big picture] The crest is just over six feet high. Can you imagine being in that house when those trees came crashing down?! We lost probably twenty feet off the top of our mahogany tree, maybe thirty off the mango. But that was nothing, compared to what lay all around us.

One doesn’t “evacuate” with 50+ animals [we had close to seventy, then]. One goes down with the ship. Or one gets the hell outta Dodge, permanently. And that’s the plan…

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