It's taken me a little time to get to this, but I do want to write out the entire event for everyone. Writing has always been rather soothing for me.
On the 20th of December, the day started as normal. I was picked up by my boss to head to work and Steven had already left. I spent the day trimming hooves and around 6pm, Steven arrived to pick me up and we headed home.
About halfway home, I received a chilling phone call from a neighbor. Our house was on fire. My heart stopped. I cannot even begin to explain the feeling. I was shaking but trying very hard to hold it together, warning Steven to not drive too fast, that speeding and possibly crashing would not help the situation.
I knew, even before we arrived, that the house would go up quickly. Living out where we did, there are no fire hydrants and the roads are so bad, the Fire Department's trucks could barely get down them. I was terrified that my brother, who was home alone and often sleeps during the day (as we all do) would be injured or even worse. I was scared to death for my dogs, locked in my bedroom, and for Spyder, locked directly behind the house.
We turned the corner on our road and we could see it, blazing a bright light in the darkness. My stomach turned over and it took extreme effort to keep it down. We pulled up across the street and I rushed out, seeking a fire fighter to ask them about my brother, my dogs, and Spyder.
My brother turned up then, hair singed but alive. He was crying and begged for my forgiveness, but all I could do was hold him.
The entire house was engulfed.
According to my brother, he was watching television in the game room when he noticed a smell. The neighbors often times burn trash, so he didn't think too much of it until the entire house electrical made an audible pop. He got up and went to our room, and when he opened the door, the window blew out and he was confronted with a horrifying sight, everyone's worst nightmare. He froze for an instant, then rushed inside, trying to find the dogs, but was forced back by the heat, which singed his hair.
He got out, and Junebug, our Boxer, preceded him. He lost sight of her as he ran around to the back of the house. He opened the gate and Spyder left the airlock calmly amid flying embers, at least one of which had burned him, and joined the other two horses.
From there he waited with neighbors as the fire department arrived and then we pulled up.
I told him clearly, this was NOT his fault, and he did everything he could, and that getting out was the best thing for him. I, all of us really, were in shock and could do little more than give reports to the police, fire department, and ambulance, and sit there.
I called a neighbor we are good friends with and he came down, offering us a place to stay for the night. I called my boss, and my best friend, who spread the word online about our devastation.
We sat and watched it burn for some time, then drove to the neighbors, unable to stomach the sight anymore. More neighbors and friends were waiting there and gathered us up, offering us food and alcohol to calm our nerves. They set up a place for us to sleep and we retired, sick at heart. I spent the entire night in tears, head aching and stomach in knots, and rose early in the morning, waking my husband and brother. The neighbor fed us breakfast, and then we went back to look at the house.
A total loss. There was literally nothing left of our life. Only what we had in the truck and the clothes we were wearing. I could not bear to look inside, but Steven did. He brought out Pixie and Ellie, who were far enough from the fire to have not been totally burned, and we buried them underneath the oak tree side by side. Of the other dogs, no sign was found, but they had been sleeping where the fire started and was hottest.
We called for Junebug, to no avail. Our horses had escaped in the night, but kind neighbors had rounded them up. I went over and talked to them for a bit and checked the horses, who had some scrapes and burns, but were fine. My boss showed up to see us and take a look, and as I was walking back to the house, Steven appeared with one of our cats, Mr Gibbs, clutched to his chest. He was shaking badly, but unharmed, and I placed him safely in my boss' vehicle to be taken to her home.
I spent some time talking to several other people, and after speaking to my best friend, began to get an idea of what was going on online. People everywhere were stepping up, donating funds and items, asking for our information. It almost came as a shock - I did not expect anything from anyone, all I wanted was good thoughts. I was not afraid of being homeless - our boss offered us their spare bedroom and our new house on their farm would be finished soon enough. Material possessions, although painful to lose, because much of it had meaning, could eventually be replaced with new possessions with new stories behind them. I avoided, and honestly, am still avoiding, any thought of the lives lost in the fire.
I had to stay strong, for my husband, for my brother. I needed to keep my head up and take control - they depend on me to keep everything running smoothly, even in the face of adversity, so I did my best.
A reporter arrived and we spent some time with her, then returned to my neighbor's home where I was able to use the computer and see JUST how much people were stepping up. There are no words at all to explain the feelings I had, watching the posts come in, the offers, the good will and kind thoughts and jingles. It overwhelmed and humbled me.
That evening, we gathered the horses up with ropes and borrowed halters and walked them to a spot where another good friend pulled up her horse trailer. All three, even Apple who has not been loaded since the day I bought her, got on and rode fine to their new home, where they were let loose in the pasture to graze and relax. I had a lot of worry about Spyder, who has suffered from stress stomach aches, but he did just fine.
I did manage to sleep that night, and we spent the next day with even MORE amazing friends who came to help us with our new home. They got an amazing amount of work done (and are returning today!)
Donations were brought, and being mailed. Funds for new furniture and other things are deposited in my Paypal. It was astonishing to watch it unfold.
Even now, things are unreal and numb, but we continue to move forward. My husband stopped on his way home from work last night, around 10:30pm, and was calling for our possibly only surviving dog, Junebug, when he heard a meow. He found our other cat, Snickers, huddled in what was left of our bedroom. Her whiskers were singed and her fur burnt, but she came out to him and he placed her in the truck and called me.
I woke up this morning very blessed. My husband well, my two cats sleeping beside us, and friends and family all over the world wishing us good thoughts. I will continue to stay as busy as I can. I know that there will come a time when I will have to, need to, sit down and grieve for what was lost, but for now, it's forward into a new age.
Bless all of you, and thank you, and have a wonderful Holiday, whichever you celebrate, and if you celebrate none, have a wonderful week!
