Blog Sharks! part one

If you are older than dirt, as I am, you remember the silly Saturday Night Live skits called (cue Jaws tuba... dah dmp dah dmp dah dmp) Land Shark.



[AOL Video]

Well, recently we had a rare (for this blog) sighting of (dah dmp dah dmp dah dmp) Blog Sharks.

I accept full responsibility. I unwittingly dangled the bait. Here's part one of the Rest of the Story.

In telling about my experience with this unprecedented natural disaster, I said,

"But most of the stories are of the heroic efforts of the people working twenty-four hours to get the power back up. And of neighbors helping each other. Of the rapidity and effectiveness of this President's response, in stark contrast to the Katrina victims who are still waiting."

A website of political commentary had linked to my blog, (unbeknownst to me) to share the photos and stories of the ice storm that I had posted. The author of this website writes a weekly syndicated column which appears in nearly 200 newspapers and websites. According to Wikipedia, the website is "at most times residing among the top five conservative political blogs."

And there was a link from that website to Patience-please, Days of Dog Poop and Stories.

So an army of folks got offended. (If you think the comments are bad here, you should see what they say about me there!) The anonymous commenter here thought I was taking a "cheap shot at President Bush" though on that other site he isn't anonymous, he is 'Tim from Paducah'.

He went on to say, in the comments here, and on the political website:

"The excellent response to this disaster has everything to do wih the character and the spirit of Western Kentuckians and nothing to do with anyone in Washington; but how would a Northeastern liberal artist relocation program transplant know anything about character and spirit."

First, I want to reassure my Northeastern liberal (and conservative and politically uncommitted) readers that those are Tim from Paducah's words, not mine. I am well aware that folks in the northeastern parts of this country (as well as people in other countries altogether, other continents, even) know a whole lot about character and spirit, and have frequently demonstrated both.

Some of you might be confused by the "artist relocation program transplant" name calling. My husband and I moved here, six and a half years ago, as part of an innovative program initiated by the City of Paducah. The city had an idea to revitalize a blighted, drug infested, decaying section of Paducah, by encouraging artists to move in and fix up the homes. When we bought our burned out shell for $17,000 from a private citizen, we became the first out of town artists to sign up. There was no guarantee that any other artists would come, ever, but we loved the city so much that we were willing to take the risk. We especially loved the people.

The house was amazing. The people we bought it from had purchased it after a fire had destroyed the interior. They had gutted it, mostly, and then had abandoned the project, leaving it to sit vacant for two years. There were no interior walls, just the inside of the exterior brick, and no windows. Where our dining room table now sits, there was a 6' by 9' hole. Peering over the edge of this hole one could see the two dead possums floating in four feet of standing water which was the basement. All of the original woodwork, fireplaces, staircase, fixtures, everything had been removed. It was our dream shell.

We had a nice little eighteen acre horse farm in Maryland. We sold that for Bill to be part of the exciting dream which was Paducah's Artist Relocation Program. We put all of our resources into rebuilding this house, at way more cost than we planned. (Anyone who has ever rehabbed a home will draw in their breath and roll their eyes and nod, I'm sure.) We left family and friends, and I placed the kids' ancient ponies who, I feared, would not survive the move, with my generous stepdaughter.

The whippets, nine of them in those days, and I moved here two months before Bill did. He was making sure the transfer of his medical practice went smoothly, and that his patients were cared for. I knew no one. The house wasn't yet finished so the dogs and I lived in the new addition: Bill's studio and gallery. No shower, no kitchen, no light in the powder room! No fence for the dogs, no computer, no phone, no cell phone service unless I drove out of town.

No friends, and at this point the neighborhood was still a little dicey.

too be continued...

hug your hounds

Come on Along

Just some quick photos. I'll write a story when it isn't so gorgeous out. (And explain the exciting comments from the last post.)



Mama Pajama, who is eleven and Very Old Dog, who will be fifteen in two months, cordially invite you to go on their walk around the block.

Very Old Dog say, "Coming?"

Mama Pajama ignores pee mail; Very Old Dog reads every message.

He amazes me.

Whee! Hurry up, Mama Pajama!

A bonus! We meet a favorite friend.





And then, sweet dog dreams.

hug your hounds, especially the very old ones

Paducah Ice Storm Update and a Challenge from Sweden

First the update. This storm is the biggest natural disaster in Kentucky's history, involving the largest National Guard call up ever.

It was cold last night. Single digits cold. And still 4,000 people in my (relatively urban and high tech) county are without power. In the state, they are a small part of the 271,460 who are powerless. These houses aren't designed for this. Under our hardwood floors there is nothing. Not a second layer, no plywood, no insulation. Just the fir and then the great outdoors.

Our local NPR station, WKMS, (without hyperbole the best NPR station in the world), has done a herculean job of keeping us informed during this disaster. These facts are from their website, which was helpfully updated just minutes before this writing.

59 districts in Kentucky are still under boil water advisories. This is an improvement; at least they have water.

It is probably a miracle that only twenty-five deaths have been confirmed as storm related, so far. People have died from hypothermia, carbon monoxide poisoning, fires, and ambulance delays. WKMS reports that several deaths have been caused by heart attacks that resulted from strenuous activities related to the storm. A couple of days ago, I came downstairs to let a dog out, and thought I was about to witness one. Bill walked into the kitchen, his face a pasty, blotchy, sweaty mess.

"What in God's name have you been doing?" I asked in a calm, composed voice, which didn't approach hysteria no matter what Bill would tell you.

"Just moving a few branches," he wheezed.

"If you have a heart attack, I'll kill you," I shared, in a moment of enlightened spiritual generosity.

The Kentucky National Guard has provided 320,000 meals to individuals and shelters and expects another 210,000 to be delivered soon, and has delivered 650,000 bottles of water so far with an additional 300,000 coming.

There are still folks in our downtown block who have been without power since January 27. Four of the homes pictured above are dark. But it looks a lot better than it did at this time last week:

And they did a fine job getting this pole straightened up and the wires re-strung:

(This morning.)

We have to tackle the dogs' side potty yard. (above) But that large limb is hanging on the neighbor's main electrical supply line, and then touching the chain link fence and all the other branches. Soooooo. No. We'll wait for the electric company guys to do their thing.

There have been reports of increased domestic violence. I suppose if you are the type to beat on your spouse and/or kids, you are smart enough to think that beating on them when they are cold will get your power turned on faster. Well, West Kentucky's two jails are on lock down, running on generators and using kerosene heaters, so if that sounds good...

But most of the stories are of the heroic efforts of the people working twenty-four hours to get the power back up. And of neighbors helping each other. Of the rapidity and effectiveness of this President's response, in stark contrast to the Katrina victims who are still waiting. WKMS interviewed a woman who had been displaced to Murray, KY, from New Orleans during Katrina. She loved life in Western Kentucky, so she stayed. She was singing the Red Cross's praise, in a shelter where her neighbor had brought her after days without power.

Imagine.

Now for the challenge from Sweden!

My friend Henrik, of the famous Play A While Whippets at http://henrikharling.blogspot.com/ said:

"Jag blev utmanad att publicera en bild under Mina Bilder på datorn och här kommer den bild som blev resultatet av det."

Or, in English, "I was challenged to publish a photo from my computer by taking the sixth photo in the sixth folder on my computer and above you can see the result." (You'll need to go to Henrik's blog to see his fun photo.) He challenged me to do the same, and since my desktop blew up from one of the power surges, here's the laptop photo:

This is one of my favorite pictures ever. It's Lindy Loo's siblings, Proper (now Topper), Leslie (now Rex), and Francis (now Elijah) on one of their early days in the great outdoors. How could that possibly be two and a half years ago.

Now I get to tag someone. Maybe I can introduce you to some great bloggers!

- Jenn, who is also writing her first novel and is a fine writer: http://fast-dogs.blogspot.com/

- Laurie, who is a professional writer in MN and has a beautifully crafted blog: http://lifewiththreedogs.blogspot.com/

- Barry, whose blog was recently featured as a Blog of Note, after I had found him, and now his 545 followers are enjoying what I had been: http://anexplorers.blogspot.com/

- my Bill, who doesn't promote his outstanding blog, so I will: http://williamfrenzullimd.blogspot.com/

If you haven't visited these blogs, pour some coffee, or tea, or adult beverage and enjoy. Oh, and while you're at it...

hug your hounds

Three Dog Nights – personal reflections of a natural disaster from a pet owner’s perspective

[Click on the images to get the full effect, then use your browser's back button to return.]

They said it was going to be the “Storm of the Decade”. We had a half-gallon of milk, plenty of toilet paper, and a third of a bag of dog food. I know how Western Kentucky winters go; it would be warm again in three days. My raised-in-New England self scoffed, and I refused to join the long lines at Krogers.

When the power went off, we moved the eight whippets and ourselves to our front guest room, which has a gas fireplace. I put every dog bed in the house on the floor in a semicircle in front of the fireplace. I piled blankets on top of the beds. Very Old Dog, who will be fifteen in April, was nestled in with us. Our dear young friends, Heather and Jason, were in our other front guest bedroom, also conveniently outfitted with another gas fireplace. With them were their own two whippets and their most adorable toddler, Ben. Their whippets, Edgar and Emmett, consider this a second home, since Emmett was born here, and both are frequent guests. And you haven’t experienced cute until you hear Ben pronounce “Patience”.

At first, our dogs experienced an understandable confusion. Clearly the Big Bed was for them, and the Rags on the Floor were for humans. I explained their error to them as I chased them off the bed, gave them their bedtime biscuit, and covered each one in a toasty blanket. Their puzzled expressions made me wonder what were they thinking.

Even from my limited human perspective, with my laughably inferior senses, life was upside down. It was so dark. No streetlamps glaring behind the curtains. No moon or stars. No passing headlights casting shadow cartoons on the ceilings. And before we had blown them out, the warm light from our candles had softened our features. The constant heart stopping ‘crack!’ of huge limbs tearing off the tops of friendly old trees, followed by the whooshing shower of dislodged ice. We squeezed our eyes, put our fingers in our ears, buried our heads in our covers, but nothing dulled the BOOM as those limbs dropped sixty, eighty feet and landed on the ground or the roof or the lower branches.

The transformers all around the city were detonating, making the sky look like a lightening storm in blue. And then the huge pole at the corner fell. (Later we learned that this pole carried the main line that takes power from the 3rd St. power station to all points west.) The transformers on the shorter poles all along our street exploded, one after another. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. Huge showers of brilliant electric blue sparks filled our window view. And then the quiet of the storm. No traffic hum, no distant music from Fat Moe’s, no TV, just ice, sirens, crashing trees. I wondered what it smelled like to the dogs. All of that disaster.

Neighbors without gas logs hugged with their pets for warmth. Dogs who had never been allowed in bed snuggled under the covers and heated their grateful owners. People refused to go to shelters or even to neighbors’ houses, because they couldn’t leave their animals. Loving owners will willingly put themselves in harm's way, rather than abandon their pets.

My dogs applauded my silly decision to avoid the lines at the grocery store before the storm. They thoroughly enjoyed their meals of rice, veggies, and expired meat from our emptied freezers, when their dog food ran out.

They didn’t complain when we went the longest time in our little history without a walk: five days. All but two stayed on their spots on the floor in front of the fireplace. Young, foolish Swede William would periodically launch onto our bed, landing on a grumpy human stomach or head and get immediately launched right back onto the floor. Not unlike a pitch down the middle meeting Babe Ruth’s sweet spot. But Sam, our Registered Therapy Dog, was smarter. He would ease onto the bed, smooth as lava, and melt into the circle of my stomach. I would wake with a smile, hugging my personal canine hot water bottle. Except that the guest room bed is only a double, and poor Bill was clinging to the six inches of bed that remained for him. Reluctantly, I would encourage Sam back to his spot on the floor, covering him with a kiss, and then I would pull Bill back onto the mattress.

And now that the power is back, the sun is shining, and in typical Western Kentucky fashion, it is in the fifties out, I send out a prayer. I know the good people did - and are still doing - everything they possibly could for their families, their neighbors, their friends, and their animals during this disaster. I pray that they are all well. That they are seeing the daffodils pushing up under the broken trees, and are hearing the songbirds trying to find each other. That their Labradors are helping with the stick cleanup, by removing each branch tossed on the pile and trying to bring it back. That the lap dogs are licking the tears when their owners survey the mess. That the horses are whinnying warm welcomes as the barn doors creak open. That the cats are leading by example, saying, “Oh who cares? I have a sunny spot by the window. Life is good.”

hug your hounds

If you haven't seen this...

you might want to.




Pour a cup of coffee or tea, get comfy, and

hug your hounds

Woody, the Three Legged Wonder

In all the excitement, I forgot to share our iPet of the Week with you.





Meet Woody! Click on his photo to read his story.











hug your hounds

From Crashing Branches to Chainsaws

And still the sirens.

Well, today's report will be much more personal. I no longer feel the burden of reporting the situation here to faraway frantic family members; the New York Times, MSNBC, and CNN are doing a fine job. But it is amazing - estimates are between 500,000 and 600,000 customers in Western Kentucky are still without power. The thing is, I think there are only 600,030 people in Western Kentucky!

I feel a little guilty that we have power. A lot of our neighbors are still without.

It was a beautiful day today. I took the dogs for their first walk since either Sunday or Monday, I can't remember. Things were still falling randomly out of the sky, but if you picked and chose where you walked, it was okay. First some photos for some friends.

Mary, here are your pretty trees. I'm sorry. The good news is your building looks fine.

Jean, here's the tree HARK wouldn't let you take down. I don't think it's a problem now.

I tried to volunteer my services as a not-quite-legal RN today. (I'm an RN, but not licensed in KY, and I'm currently taking the refresher course mandated to get my KY license.) I thought I could help - work under - other RNs, with vital signs, assessments, whatever, as long as I wasn't working independently.

Only the Red Cross office was closed. They had the Red Cross flag just a-flying, with a sign on the door: office hours are Monday - Friday only. I went to the library and to City Hall, to no avail. So I gave up and walked the dogs, thinking, "charity does begin at home." I found out later that the National Guard Armory, down by the airport was sheltering more than 500 people, but my neighbor who is a real RN, in fact a Nurse Practitioner, was told that they had enough help. So I felt better.

I heard on the radio that no animal shelters are open. This just breaks my heart. I hope that is not correct. I know friends who are staying in their cold homes, ahem, Karen and Steve, because they don't want to leave their pets, or upset them by uprooting them. Even when their neighbors offer warm beds and hot showers and private rooms for Cooper.

And I would do the exact same thing.

I heard something else on the radio, honest, I am not making this up. In these parts we pay our property taxes at the sheriff's offices. And the radio made the announcement that the sheriff's office in Murray did NOT want anyone coming in to pay their taxes which were due today. They begged folks to stay off the roads and let the National Guard and power companies do their work.

Then, five minutes later, the radio announcer said, "Murray Electric Company just called and said that if your electric bill is due today, you must pay it."

Now, at that particular point all of Murray was without power.

So what were they going to do if you didn't pay your bill on time? Turn your power off? Hello??? Power company people? The sheriff is begging people to stay off the roads. There IS no power. The banks are all closed. Roads are impassible. We are under a state of emergency.

Well, it gave me a good chuckle.

My neighbors went to Home Depot, and there were 600 people in line to buy generators. The grocery store is out of eggs, bread, lunch meat, D and C batteries, and toilet paper, but miraculously had milk. I got the last bag of my brand of dog food, much to the whippets' disappointment. They sure enjoyed last night's rice and London broil and spinach.

The neighborhood still sounds so different. The background noises are wrong. The "boop, boop, boop" of backing up power trucks. Chainsaws zzzzzzzzz-ing. Songbirds calling constantly; like us, I suppose they're trying to call home.

Sirens, off in the distance, mostly, but sometimes they zoom by on the main loop. A helicopter lifting up from the downtown hospital. That always sets me off in a prayer for the occupant and the family.

Thanks to our gas fireplaces and the guilty early return of power, we've been warm as toast. I've so enjoyed playing Uno with Lee and Dee and Bill, and oh my good lord I beat Bill in Scrabble!

hug your hounds