I had intended to open this post up with a video and description of Battlepox but that will have to wait. Our pasture is badly flooded and I am not interested in Battlepox extreme mud version. So I will open with:
Listen to your dog....
Saturday night we were getting ready for bed and took our reluctant dogs out to pee. It had been raining and more importantly thundering for 6 hours and during this little pause we hoped to accomplish things of great importance. Our GSD refused to leave the car port. I noticed some oak leaves had blown in near the door and were floating around like down feathers. Odd to have such breeziness with the car in the way. Waki refused to do any "business".
Once inside he came into my bathroom and laid under my feed - something he's never done.
About 10 minutes after the potty out side ritual the rain and wind picked up. Then we heard a roar that got scary loud. We got into shelter with the dogs while the glass windows started to shake. The power went out. The intense wind passed and we went to bed.
In the still blackness of 4 am the lack of "business"caught up with the dogs. Thunder has been replaced with benign fog and the joyous chirps of a billion frogs. Out into the balmy mist we went, lanterns in hand. I nearly tripped over a 2 ft X 0.5 ft roof vent in the driveway. I am greeted with the same fragrance of fractured trees that I recall from driving over the Atchafalaya swamp after Hurricane Andrew. We encounter half a tree across the driveway and the intense scent of pine a few feet farther up.
At 7:30 the pink of dawn greeted us. We were thankful for our camp stove. Scott determined the roof vent wasn't from our house. Then Waki and I counted 5 large white pines and 4 substantial hard wood trees around the house that had been snapped off. Later we found even more deeper in the woods.
I have been through tropical storms and hurricanes inside boarded up houses and always have heard and felt the trees coming down. This wind was so loud that even with several 2.5 ft diameter trees snapping just yards from the house we heard and felt nothing. We were truly fortunate. For this we are grateful.