Hello my friends. Today’s title is what Mother called the indoor flooding that occurred after heavy rain last week! Both human beans took this unwelcome event in stride. What can you do? Me? I can hide beneath a table until it’s all over, that’s what I can do!
Activity outside our domicile last week involved a bobcat and a backhoe. They both worked up close to the house for several hours. The noise made voice recording a tricky business. However, my people are nothing if not organized and they took advantage of every union-mandated break to work on their own projects. Once in a while, someone would check on me and reassure me that everything was going to be okay. Mostly, I stayed in a nest I made of bed coverings, and slept.
That was day one.
On day two of this madness, I lost my good nature. Then I lost my cookies on the white bedspread. Later, I peed outside my litterbox which sends a strong message of displeasure. However, it isn’t the cat-astrophe it could be thanks to Mother’s penchant for laying puppy pee-pads around the box. She’s a quick study, that one.
Friday morning was the pinnacle. Father opened the future workroom door and found most of the room under several inches of water. He called the site manager who arrived and agreed – yup. that’s water. And it shouldn’t be there!
The house became a beehive of activity. Workmen arrived with large containers and hoses and fans and a dehumidifier and an explanation. You see, when the rain began on Thursday, the bobcat and backhoe hadn’t yet finished the day’s task. The yard at the back of the house was left as packed mud. Hard rain quickly created a rivulet leading directly to a window well. The well filled up and, having nowhere else to go, emptied itself steadily into the basement.
Forgive the pun, but Friday was a wash. While my human beans tried to complete their busy workdays, men continued to enter and leave all day. Once, when I was attempting to visit my litterbox, a tall man carrying a large bucket-looking thing appeared and freaked me out! Mother quickly picked me up and carried me out of harm’s way. I spent quite a bit of time under the table or upstairs, breaking housecat land speed records between the two.
Later, the tamping started. The whole house shook like a vibrating bed in a cheesy motel. We weary family members, unable to work or to nap, met in a common area and said soothing words to each other. Okay, you’ve got me. I wasn’t soothing at all! I yelled for the tamping to stop but no one complied.
So, my friends, the already clean floor is cleaner still. The workmen have offered to replace anything that was lost, but what was lost is irreplaceable. However, my humans haven’t spent a moment in anguish over this minor event. It was an inconvenience, nothing more. They’ve gone on about their lives, with no grudge held over the fallout from a job half-done. Me? I’m still a bit stressed. One never knows when one will encounter a stranger carrying a giant vessel, so one must explore with care. I’m thinking about asking my people to move my litterbox and feeding station to beneath the table. Then I’d never have another close encounter of the workmen kind!
Here’s hoping for calmer things, my little self-groomers!
Until next week, I remain your friend,