The Day the World Didn't End

Jane, Libby and Bailey were living in Texas. Only one of them was human. They lived in a ridiculously big one-story house in a gated community. This is the story of the big storm.

Libby:

I don’t care much for rain or storms. I used to live on the streets, and storms were often a threat to my safety. This day, we had the oppressive feeling of heavy storms on the way. The sky was dark, it had already started raining, and Bailey was hiding. Bailey goes and hides nearly an hour before the storm hits. She seems to have a seventh sense about these things. Jane and I call her the Weather Puppy.

Don’t get me wrong, time away from Bailey is always a relief. She’s a ball of violent energy, and I’m a lover, not a fighter. I remember when she first came to live here. We’d found her at the shelter where I first met Jane. Jane and I had spent time with several dogs, one at a time. There was a really nice terrier that I wanted to spend time with, but he hiked his leg and peed on Jane’s bag, so she sent him away. There were several who were too freaked out to try and make friends, there were a few that came on too strong and bullied me, and then there was Bailey. We both managed to make friends with her, and Jane brought her home with us.

Guess what Bailey did when she first came into our home? Before Jane had even closed the door, she squatted and took a huge, smelly crap on the carpet. Things didn’t settle down for a while. I kept telling Jane to take her back, but she said we had to be patient. She was still just a puppy, and this was her third home.

But I was talking about the big storm. Jane knows about Bailey and storms, so she went to find her. Bailey was in the pantry, hiding under the bottom shelf. Jane got down on all fours to tempt her out. Bailey saw that there was cover, and crawled underneath her. I just about laughed my tail off.

The TV made that horrid noise that it sometimes does, and Jane stopped to look at it. There was a big picture with large areas of color on it. Usually when Jane looks at it, there are people talking but this was different, just a pattern of colors.

She put leashes on both of us, which she had done at other times, so I knew she wasn’t really planning to go out in the bad weather. She put a bowl of water in the little laundry room and fetched some treats. Treats usually mean a lesson, so I was good with that idea.

I heard thunder and saw lightning flashes, and the sky went very dark. There was a shrieking noise from the TV and the picture went dead. Jane turned it off and walked us all into the laundry room and closed the door. Then some awful noises started.

Jane:

Tornado season is at its height in spring. When I first lived in Texas, Natalie instructed me to find high ground when there was a hurricane risk, low ground for tornadoes. Since Dallas is very flat, I just knew to stay indoors and keep away from glass. The house I lived in had large rooms, all with lots of windows. Even the ensuite bathroom had a skylight and mirrored closet doors.

Having dogs made me more careful than my nature normally dictated. I drove more carefully with dogs in the car, and I actively avoided natural disasters. I had turned the TV on when the Weather Puppy went missing, to evaluate the danger. Bailey was a useful early warning system. When I saw the tornado warnings on TV (before the satellite signal went out completely) there was a line of storms closing in, each with tornadic activity.

I put both dogs on leashes and considered the safest place to go. The only room with no glass was the laundry. Its door opened to the center of the house. To one side was its chief weakness, a triple car garage with one double and one single door. I could imagine one of those doors being ripped off by a tornado, leaving my car to smash into the wall of the room where we were hiding. And of course, I didn’t want us to be crushed by a washer or dryer smashing into us.

But it seemed safer than any of the other rooms. If the house collapsed, we were on pier and beam, so we would probably still have some shelter below ground level. I calmly collected a water bowl and treats, watched the TV until the storm centers were very close and we lost the signal, then walked us all into the laundry and closed the door.

The dogs were hesitant, of course. Libby was nervous in storms, and Bailey was downright terrified. So, we sat on the floor, and I petted them and had them work for treats while the storm increased around us. Then we heard a noise that sounded like someone hitting the windows with a baseball bat.

Libby:

We could hear and feel the storm. There were banging noises all around the house, a roaring noise in the background, and there were changes in pressure where we were. Bailey was shaking with fear. Jane was calm and kept talking to us cheerfully. You would have thought she wasn’t scared at all, but she didn’t normally shut us in a tiny room and sit on the floor. When a human does something unusual, it’s always worth wondering why.

There was nowhere to run to. Bailey and I were both trying to figure out escape routes, but Jane had her back to the door, and it was the only way out. Bailey’s eyes were wide like water bowls. I lay down touching Jane for comfort and tried to relax.

Eventually, the noises stopped and we could just hear the rain and some thunder in the background. After a minute or two, Jane stood up and opened the door.

Jane:

I walked around the house looking to see if there was any damage. I was sure that the hail would have broken some of the large windows, but I didn’t see evidence of that from the inside (and I was not about to go outside).

I took a look in the garage, and both the big doors were intact. The power was still on, so I turned on the TV and made a cup of coffee to steady my nerves.

The weather warnings were still in full force. The first storm had passed through, but there was another right behind it, expected to reach us in ten minutes. I let the dogs relax for a few minutes before heading back to our sanctuary. The dogs hung back, determined not to go back into the laundry with me.

Libby:

We were safe, the storm was dying down, and Jane tried to take us back into the laundry. She must have bumped her head on something. There was no escape route! Any dog who has lived on the streets knows you never go into a blind alley to hide – every safe place has two exit points. She ended up forcing us both into the room and closing the door. Then we all huddled in place again for a repeat performance of the noise. I thought the world might be coming to an end. Honestly, I was OK with that if it meant the noises stopped. Bailey and I both buried our heads in Jane’s lap and waited for it to end.

Jane:

When the sounds of the storm died down again, I brought the dogs out of the laundry and checked the forecast on the TV. There were no more major storms headed towards us. The rain hadn’t died down, but there was no hail or green sky or roaring noise like a train. The TV showed places that had been hit by tornadoes not too far away. I let the dogs off leash so they could move around and calm down.

When the rain abated somewhat, I walked around the outside of the house. A few screens had been damaged or torn off windows. Two windows had been cracked by what could have been hailstones. The fence was intact, so I could let the dogs out into the back yard, where they sniffed around suspiciously. Maybe I had overreacted, but better safe than sorry.

Libby:

It seems that Jane kept us all safe during the big storm. I still say she should have found a safer place, but I guess she did her best with her limited resources.

Bailey:

Nope. Not going to talk about that.