As I sat on my driveway, knees to my chest, thoughts flooded me. Where would we stay tonight? My animals just went through a traumatic event, and I was not about to separate them. Not to mention, I needed them as much as they needed me.
The garage. There was only a small area available as we had been working on fixing it up, but there was a 10’ x 15’ space that we could use. It smelled like smoke, and I didn’t have any electricity since PG&E pulled my meter following the fire, but it was a roof over our heads. And we would be together.
This was the kick I needed to pull myself up, literally, solidify the plan, and with my friends and neighbors, get to work setting it up. We rescued crates from the house, neighbors took blankets and beds home to wash them so that we had clean bedding, dog and human. All the crates and pens needed a good wash as well. The driveway was now bustling.
While this was happening, a car pulled up that read “Giuliani Reconstruction”. Having been through a flood at my tutoring center before, I knew what these guys were about. They were the ambulance chasers of the home/office emergency world. These companies swoop in and help with clean up and salvaging what they can.
At this moment, I wasn’t in a space to deal with any of that. My first instinct was to send them packing. But a little voice in my head said to hear them out.
Eric and Matthew introduced themselves and explained briefly what their company does. I had two questions:
“Are you a big corporation or independently owned?”
“Independently owned.”
“Will you (Matthew) be my point of contact from beginning to end?”
He replied with, “Yes, although you will have different project managers, too, throughout the phases.”
I was sold. Those two gentleman proceeded to stay for most of the rest of the day. They went and bought me lunch, they walked my dogs, they helped with the set up. Most importantly, they got a generator on scene within hours so that I had some power. They were a Godsend.
As the sun started to set, my temporary home was ready. Dog crates and my cats’ condo bordered the walls, there was a potty area set up in the corner, and in the middle, with a 16” path around it, was an air mattress for me.
Francis, my house pig, and my other two house cats were secured… or so I thought… in the back enclosure. Neighbors and friends had brought charging cords, camping lanterns, dog supplies, food for me, pillows, blankets… We were as ready as we could be for our first night.
Exhaustion flooded me as I put my head on the pillow, holding tight to my dogs, while the diesel generator hummed just 10’ from my head outside the garage door. But sleep would not come. My eyes were fixed on the ceiling while tears rolled down my cheeks. That is how I spent the next nine hours.
At 5:30 am, with the light peeking through the windows, I got up to take the first dogs out for a bathroom break. This is when we saw it. An animal at the end of the deck. With the dim light, I couldn’t tell what it was. Shoving the two dogs back into the garage, I slowly walked closer.
What did I find? Francis.
Francis… the pig that was supposed to be in the back enclosure with my cats. Nope. He pushed through the barrier that the fire department put across the doggie door and made his way into the burned-out house. Then, since doors were still open to the outside, he meandered out to find the grocery bags from the night before that the fire fighters tossed to the side.
As I worked to get him back in, the worst thought entered my mind. The cats! Did Tigger and Raven go in the house as well? Tigger was not an issue. I could just pick him up. But Raven… He is semi-feral, and that was going to be a whole different level of crazy to get him.
He did not disappoint.
With Francis locked on the deck, I went to search for my cats. I found both of them hiding in the kitchen cupboard, surrounded by ash and all kinds of toxic debris. Of course, Raven was closest to me. Taking a deep breath, knowing this was going to include pain, I reached in and grabbed him.
I was not ready for the level of crazy he was about to unleash. He sunk his teeth into my right arm. Then my left. Following up with razor sharp claws slashing at me. After two bites, I was committed to not letting go of him. I knew if I did, he would run out of the house, and I would most likely never see him again.
When his valiant efforts to free himself from my grip did not work, he upped his game. Aiming at my face, he delivered three bites to my cheek. Mustering everything in me, I opened the door to the enclosure, and tossed him outside.
Blood was rolling down my face and dripping from the wounds on my arms as I picked Tigger up and carried him out. This was not good. My head was foggy from the events of the day before and lack of sleep. I couldn’t even process what I needed to do to help myself at that moment. Then a thought popped into my head. Deb. Call Deb. She will help you.
And so I did. At 6:00 am in the morning, I asked Siri to call Deb. She picked up right away. Through my sobbing, she understood I needed help and without hesitation, headed my way. Bandages and first aid supplies in hand, we cleaned up my wounds.
A glance at my phone revealed it was now 7:00 am. There was a hay delivery coming in one hour. A hay delivery? The morning after the fire? Yep. I had scheduled this days before the fire, but cancelling it was not an option as I was down to two bales of hay. The animals still needed to eat even if my house was charred.
That meant that the hay barn needed to be cleaned out so that they could stack the new bales. With my face and arms throbbing, I made another call.
“Sally? Can you help me?” Sally is my friend and neighbor, and she dropped everything that morning to come down and work alongside of me to get the hay barn ready. When you have animals, you can’t just curl up in a ball and let the world spin around you… even though that is exactly what I wanted to do! They rely on me for everything. So I put on my big girl panties and got it done.
Day one of my new reality was off to a rough start.
-Tiffanie
#farmgirltough
