Today is a strange day

3 years ago today I was looking at the burned out hulk of my house. My vehicles were unusable, I had no money, no wallet, no car keys, and exactly 1 item of clothing that was mine (a bathrobe).  I was wondering what to do next, and frankly I was at a complete loss.

My other half was walking around at least as perplexed as I was and neither of us had any idea about anything Other than we were missing 5 pets… And a house!

I knew the two retrievers had gotten out but had a terrible feeling about the 3 unaccounted for pets. As it turned out they died that night. I buried them myself several days later. I occasionally visit the spot, suppose I’ll be brushing away the pine needles sometime after sunrise.

I’m writing this at 1 in the morning, I just can’t sleep.

This is the first anniversary where I’ve been unable to sleep since that night.

The fire consumed the house between 3 and 4 am. Tonights sleeplessness is like an itch in the back of my head, like I’m waiting for something to happen, like I’m catching movement out of the corner of my eye. It’s maddening!

I know there is nothing there but for some reason the primitive part of my brain is on full alert.

Things even worked out OK. The house was rebuilt, the retrievers came home and I eventually got my stride back figuring out what to do next.

One of the dogs is dozing at my feet. He wakes up, checks on me nuzzles my toe then goes back to sleep like a sensible creature at this time of night.

He knows something is up with me. He’s not sure what it is but he’s going to look after me in any case.

That I have any pre-fire possessions at all,  I owe to  a small group of dedicated and loving friends. They simply would not let me chuck it all in the bin and move on. It’s a mixed blessing to be sure.

There were a surprising number of things that survived but most of my possessions were lost. Because of that, I appreciate the items that made it all the more.

I’ll run across something and it takes me back. But in all I’m thankful for those friends who loved me enough to fight me. They were keeping my best interests at heart even when I would not.

It’s funny to say it this way, but my friends are dogs.  Just like the real dog at my feet they look after me with unflinching dedication. I must let them know more often how much they mean to me. Especially when I have so dang few friends to begin with.

I’m very tired, my thoughts are not coherent. For some reason I keep flashing to that night and while I’m not reliving it completely I’m seeing images of things that stick out in my mind.

I was asleep even while evacuating. The most primitive part of my brain was processing data with nothing more than survival in mind. I guess that’s a reasonable place to be in an emergency situation.

I still feel guilty about the pets. I wonder if I’d been more alert and thinking with a little more 21st century brainpower could I have changed things.

The primitive says NOPE! definitely Not… Well who am I to argue?

Perhaps this is about letting go of the guilt. It’s a burden I’ve carried long enough.

The goofball sleeping on my foot forgave me… I’m going to follow his lead.

Forgive myself and go to bed.

In that order.