My dogs began barking and howling as if murder was being committed on my property. I looked out and saw nothing, except for the dogs looking over at the horse neighbors drive. No one was there, so I assumed the dogs were wanting in the house and were attempting to get my attention by barking up a storm. A few minutes passed and the dogs took off, jumping, not using the stairs, off the front deck. Their barking alerting me to trouble. I quickly moved to the door and saw two blond dogs darting into the trees on the other side of our property fence. My neighbors dogs were loose.
I laced up my boots and went into the wild wind. As I opened the gate, I cried out "Auntie Em Auntie Em!" as the wind grabbed my gate and dragged me through the open with it. I struggled with the gates, to get them shut and tightly secured before walking over to the neighbors. I knew they were not home, as the husband has been sent off to Iraq again, and the wife works off property. I called to the two f the five residing dogs, and brought them back into there large pen. I struggled with this gate as well, the wind kicking up dust storms making it hard to see. The gritty taste of dust was overwhelming. A cable had fallen, and I stepped over it, only to scream in pain and fall to my butt. I sat in the gravel drive way cursing, and prodding my ankle gently. Was it broke?
I hobbled home, fighting with my gate again, and crying out in pain with every step. As soon as I stepped into the house, I quickly removed my boot, grabbed a bag of frozen cows peas, and called my husband. The parts guy answered the phone. I bit my bottom lip to stop the blubbering crying. I wasn't about to give this retired Naval officer/biker anything to tease me about later. I asked for my husband, but he was busy, he would have to call me back. I pushed the off button on my phone, a tittered a small sob. Pressing the talk button, I called my mother. I had to cry to some one. Of course this caused my mother distress. I told her I wold be fine. I just had to cry to someone. Hours passed, my foot swelled, my ankle looked like I had a gold ball under the skin, and I complained. Before my husband made it home. He hadn't received my message. He poked and prodded and in his highly educated reasoning, declared it severely sprained, not broken. He applied an ace bandage tightly, and my heart beat timed the small surged of pain.
That evening, the rains came. Everyone was sleeping but I. The lighting lit up the yard, tattling on the rain and the flooding it was causing. The hail came, knocking gently on the roof, and with a clash of thunder the hail beat on the windows, wanting to get inside. My youngest child sat up in a flash. I retrieved him a glass of water and sent him in to sleep with his father. The local news channel was on, and I waited, waited for a hole in the radar. And when it came, I was prepared. My right boot was easily pulled on, but my left. I once again bit my lip so that I wouldn't wake anyone with my personal turmoil.
The water came up mid calf. I sloshed through the water, and opened up gates. I hadn't known that the weather was going to be this bad, and only a few critters had access to the barn. I went and checked on the goats. Between my ankle and the height of the water, it took longer than I had wanted. The rain came back, and I found myself lifting the truck topper, holding two kids with one arm, and trying to get a hesitant mother goat to walk out into the rain. I couldn't let them stay, the goat pen was flooding. I propped the topper on my back, and grabbed the goats collar, allowing the topper to side off me as we walked. I took them into the barn, and grained them. There were still a few high places left in the barn that were dry. I shivered, and walked, limped back through the water and the pouring rain.
I was cold and tired. Bed beckoned me.