The past four months in Jonesland have been insane! By “insane”, I mean I-N-S-A-N-E!
Two days before Christmas we spent the day at a wrestling tournament, just as we had every other weekend for months. On the way home we talked about how great KJ did, what he could do better, and how we were all excited that Christmas was so close! As we neared home, we noticed fire trucks in front of our house. My first thought was that there was another car accident nearby (something that is extremely common as we live on a busy road). We slowed down and then the phone rang. My Father In Law was on the line telling us that our house had caught fire!
My first thought was that our beloved dogs were in the house. WHERE ARE MY DOGS?! I didn’t care about my stuff or the reality we were facing, I wanted my dogs to be safe. We pulled up, told the kids to stay put, jumped out of the car, and bolted to the house. At this time there were about 5 fire trucks and approx 20 fire fighters working. Our Great Dane, Rosie, had gotten out of the house thanks to my amazing neighbor seeing the smoke and running down. Charlie, our little terrier, was nowhere to be found. The neighbor didn’t see him in the house and none of the firefighters had seen him. My heart sank. Where’s Charlie?!
I stood there watching the fire crews work while trying to make sense of what was going on. My house is on fire!?! Did I leave my curling iron on? Did I leave the oven on? What in the actual fuck is going on? I can’t fully put into words the emotions and lack of emotions that were happening all at once. The best way to describe it is SHOCK. I couldn’t process what was happening. I broke out in laughter, more than I’d like to admit, because I couldn’t process all of the chaos around me. My husband and I just kept looking at each other, trying not to cry, and saying “our house is on fire” as if the words were going to suddenly make this insanity make sense.
An hour into the chaos, Charlie is still missing, the fire fighters are finishing up, and the fire inspector tells us what happened. A woman was driving down the road, claims she fell asleep, and hit an electric pole. The electric wire came down on the telephone wire and sent 15k-17k volts into my attic… and POOF my house is flaming. The fire took out half of my kitchen, two bathrooms, the baby’s room, and the smoke damaged the rest of the house. A total freak incident. I didn’t know if I was supposed to feel better or worse that the fire was caused by someone else. I just felt mad and wanted to find the woman and shake the shit out of her.
I bottled the urge to confront the person as I was in a very important, defining moment of my life. I have 3 children that I need to set the example for and a husband that needed me to not completely lose my shit. I decided to turn my attention back to our Charlie pup. I asked about 5 different firefighters if they had seen our dog, all of them brushed me off and said they didn’t know anything about a dog in the house. Freaking out and ready to go into full bitch mode, I took a breath and asked one last man. He immediately went back into the house and searched for Charlie. I stood there, not breathing, waiting…
All of a sudden the man emerged holding our Charlie Dog! His cream fur was now black and he was shaking, but he was alive! Now we can breathe…. for a moment.