News changes so quickly in this fast-paced world of ours. Yesterday’s disasters are but a vague memory today for those of us lucky enough to not be a part of them.
We were headed to Chatsworth on the edge of LA to go and see our son’s band Cowboy Nation play at the Cowboy Saloon. We try and make a point to go and see him in action as it were, when we are able. It is not an easy life being on the road and gigging all over heck sometimes until 2 a.m. He likes it when his parents show up and make a fuss of him once in a while. He’s 40.
But I have to stay at a hotel with a pool; those are my conditions, especially in LA in the summer. And I was not disappointed with my most recent choice. A nicely renovated Sonesta property surrounded by palm trees and boasting a lovely clean and warm pool. I hopped in after breakfast to do my usual bouncing and twists that must happen if I’m not able to go to our local water hangout with the Mermaids.
We had enjoyed a relatively uneventful journey down the I-5, discounting some lousy drivers and the odd near collision. On a Friday afternoon at quitting time in many places, we were the lucky ones. I remembered all the fires down in LA and wondered how the many people who were displaced are picking up the pieces of their lives and moving on. Our son and his wife were only bothered by smoke and air quality at their North Hollywood apartment, though they knew many who had far worse scenarios.
I talked to the lady walking her beautiful Belgian Malinois by the pool. If I see someone with a Maligator, I am drawn to that person, I have to talk to them. We are a rare breed, the Mal owner’s club, and we always feel empowered to share horror stories, coo over their beauty and athleticism. “She saved my life,” the lady Annette tells me. “I am an animal rescuer, have been all my life. We were asleep in the house and Keilani, the Mal, woke me up. The house was on fire. My other dogs were asleep in the other part of the house. We broke the window and jumped out, the hairs on both of us singeing — there was no way to get back in and rescue the others. We drove to Pacific Palisades down the road and screamed for help from the firefighters. ‘You have to save my dogs!’ I told them. When they got to the house, it was too late, the whole of the back of the house was engulfed. Worse than losing my house of 20 years and everything I owned, was the loss of my dogs.”
I felt my heart swell with agony for this poor lady and so many like her who could not save their beloved pets. “I am coming to terms with losing the house and everything, but not my babies.” I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, as she recounted that awful night and day and nights and days to follow. “FEMA has been good to us, giving the displaced shelter,” she said, but the insurance company less so. That’s such a sorry tale for the many of us who diligently pay our increased insurance rates, knowing that a portion of the premium has to go towards tragic events like these. And then the insurance companies try to skirt their responsibilities? “Oh yes,” Annette went on. “Many of us are already in lawsuits to try and recapture what we claim is our absolute right.”
You could see the deep love and bond between her and her dog. “She’s all I have left,” she went on. “But she saved my life for sure, and she will have the best of everything for the rest of her life.” As if on cue, Keilani nudged over to where she could get a hold of her owner’s burrito in typical Mal stealth way.
Annette talked about leaving the area and going to Hawaii, but struggles with her mission in life to save dogs and how California is still very much in need of people like her. “Maybe when I get my insurance money — if I do — I will be able to buy a parcel of land where I can restart my life’s work.” And I could see myself reflected in the mirror of where she was currently standing. I found it so unimaginable, the horror of losing your beloved pets and how could you find the strength to start all over again, pick yourself up from the ashes of your destroyed world and not sink into despair and self-pity.
According to Google, 18,000-plus residences were lost to the LA fires, at least 29 human lives and countless animal lives were lost to the fires, 100,000-plus people were displaced and the early estimate of damages runs to about $250 billion. Approximately 2,000 small businesses were destroyed and roughly 11,500 people lost their jobs in these fires. One has to wonder how many people will want to rebuild their homes in that place and how many will not be able to rebuild because of the costs and monies involved and will suffer post-traumatic stress disorder on an ongoing basis. The LA area hotels must be housing many of those 100,000 people, several with pets, and I was happy to see the Sonesta boasting itself as a pet friendly property.
Annette’s Mal lay down in the shade of the top step of the pool and smiled. She knew she was a very special girl, and she loved that feeling.
“I went back to what’s left of my house,” said Annette. “And I found my number plate by the remains of my truck. Pitbull Guru, it read. I picked it up and realized that my mission must continue. I had rescued so many unwanted and unloved pitties in my time. And Keilani, my rescue Mal had gone on to rescue me, so we, she and I, in our turn, have to keep rescuing on. We are the lucky survivors.”
And we had only just met, but you could see that she was exactly that. A survivor, going through some hard times, who would eventually rise and thrive again. I’m sure there are many Annettes out there who are still in recovery for all things lost, who constantly relive those terrifying hours of horror when they could not save all that they wanted to from the Armageddon all around. “I’m a Phoenix,” she told me. “I’ll rise up from the ashes.”
Lest we forget yesterday’s news of the devastating fires in Los Angeles. There are many down here who are suffering and need our help. It is still today’s news for them and likely the news for many of their tomorrows.
