I Am Singlehandedly Overwhelming 911
Wrote this this morning, couldn't post it due to Internet troubles.
Okay, so, I've had to call 911 twice so far in less than the space of a month, and neither time was what I'd call an "emergency." >_< No wonder the 911 system is so overstrained.
The first time was a couple of weeks or so ago when I startled a friendly raccoon which was dozing on our porch one morning. This scared the liver out of me, but I managed to gently shoo it off and put out my bird food. Several hours later, though, it was back. I thought this was as cute as hell and took lots of pictures. It even lay down for a nap. But I began to get worried that it was going to STAY and keep all the other animals away, so I tried shooing it off again, by rapping on the door, yelling, and even opening the door and poking out a broom. When the raccoon went to the bottom of the steps and stood up, started seizing, and then fell over, I kind of figured it wasn't merely friendly and something was wrong. -_- When I again tried to shoo it away, it insisted on COMING TO THE DOOR, so I freaked out and shut the door and tried to figure out what to do. I tried calling the DNR, but got only a recorded message and they're like a half hour away anyway. Tried calling the sheriff's department to get in touch with Animal Control. Got patched through to the Humane Society, which told me to call...911! O_o ?? For a sick raccoon?? I'd understand if the raccoon had bitten me, or was currently biting me, but it hadn't. It was just sick. Still, I called 911 anyway, because there was a poor sick raccoon languishing on our porch. By now the pathetic thing was just lying there panting, occasionally trying to sip a drink of water from a planter in the corner. I felt so awful just looking at it, and felt like a fool for not that long ago having giggled and snapped pictures of it like it was the cutest thing on Earth. It WAS cute, and I like to hope that it WAS really a friendly raccoon, but it was also deathly ill.
Got through to 911 and asked, "Who do I call to report a sick wild animal?" The operator said she could get me the number of the DNR office in Gaylord (!!!), where I could get a live person, but Gaylord is so frigging far away! When I informed her that the sick animal in question was a raccoon, she said, "They probably won't do anything about it." She told me how the DNR just doesn't tend to do anything about sick raccoons, and the only thing to be done is to just let them be, and hope that they wander off and die. Apparently they tend to get distempered this time of year. Here I'd been thinking it might be rabies--but I knew nothing about distemper. I decided to not bother with the DNR, because I remembered a story Dad had told me about him calling the DNR where he works about some sick raccoons, only to be told, "Well, if you manage to kill one, you can bring it to us for testing." !!! What good is the DNR for?? Cripes. I thanked the 911 operator and hung up. I'd just have to hope that the raccoon wandered away, or tell Dad when he got home. Unfortunately, poor raccoon didn't seem interested in leaving. It was so sick. -_- I looked up "Distemper" at Wikipedia and learned that there are two kinds, canine and feline, and raccoons can carry BOTH. Oh, GOODIE. I kept Coz inside now and hoped that the poor raccoon had canine distemper. That's the one they usually get around this time of year--another website had said that there are huge die-offs of raccoons from canine distemper every year in Michigan--so I really hope that's what it had. I went to bed and didn't sleep very well. You know, not that long before this incident I'd dreamed that an angry mother chipmunk was after me until I finally stopped and let her bite me on purpose, only to find that the bites didn't hurt as much as I'd feared they would. Huh.
Anyway, I woke up a few hours later and Dad was home; he said, "Guess who's come back to the porch." I had to tell him the poor thing was probably sick, and I described how it had acted, and he agreed that it sounded like the sick raccoons at work. I asked what he would do and he said he would have to shoot it. I was actually relieved, because the poor thing's other option was to just suffer and get other animals sick. I couldn't stand the thought of it just lying out there, and lying out there, and lying out there...so thirsty...I wanted so much to give it some water but I didn't want to encourage it to stay, even though it was obvious it was going nowhere. -_- Dad said he would have to bury it on our property, which also relieved me, as I thought he'd just carry it to work and toss it in a Dumpster, which seems terribly ignoble. I went back to bed; a short while later he came to the door to tell me he was going out to take care of it, and I waited and started praying like mad. Now, the head of my bed is right below one of my west windows--which directly overlook the front porch...meaning this raccoon was just several feet away from me, so I could hear everything that was going on (my window was open since it was warm). I heard Dad walking around the house and he said something to the raccoon, but I couldn't hear it. He'd said that he would have to hit it first to stun it so he could shoot it, I assume without having a struggle. So after a brief silence I heard this awful thud, and this pathetic little squeal...then a gunshot. -_- I can hardly bear the thought of the poor thing being hit...I do hope it was knocked out and barely felt anything. I know it had to be done, but it still makes me feel awful.
Well...I certainly couldn't get back to sleep after that, so I got up, got dressed, found my tobacco, and went outside. By the time I reached the porch Dad was already finishing up burying the raccoon where he'd killed it (right near where I buried Katchoo years ago--I'm so glad he didn't accidentally dig her up!!) since he'd said there was a "lot of blood," though fortunately I never saw any of it. I scattered some tobacco on the grave and Dad said, "It's best this way. They can be sick for weeks before dying." I know, but I still felt terribly sorry for the poor thing, and angry with myself for being so ignorant. The poor thing had been terribly sick and here I was, taking photos and then trying to shoo it away. -_- I offered to let it stay with my pine tree if it needed to. Dad said that tomorrow I should wash off the porch with a bucket of water, but we got a heavy rain that night, so I didn't have to. A day or so later he brought home some big flagstones...or whatever...and put them over the grave to keep other animals from digging. I keep Coz away from the porch and hope that the raccoon didn't wander around or infect anything else. I read that the distemper virus can survive in warm temperatures only for a few hours, but still, I really, really hope poor Coz doesn't get sick. He seems fine so far. *knock on wood*
That same night Coz trotted into the room with a fat mouse. >_< Ugh, I've had enough of death and destruction, thank you very much. Dad let the mouse go outside.
Well...last night I went to take a nap (I seem to sleep both during the day and at night now...*sigh*), and dozed off with my little machine making rain noises, and had this dream in which a bunch of trees were falling all around our house and in our long driveway. I woke up and it was really windy outside, which surprised me since they hadn't called for that in the weather reports. I turned off my machine to listen to the wind instead. As I dozed off I heard a couple of little thumps, then a terrible THUD from outside, which woke me up immediately. It woke up Ma as well, and just about NOTHING wakes her up. She went back to bed even as I thought, that must've been a tree falling. I hoped that none would fall on the house, and went back to sleep, albeit a bit nervously. When Dad got up for work I told him about it, and he left to get in his vehicle. A moment later he was pounding on the door for me to unlock it.
Turns out the tree...was one of OUR trees...and it had fallen right across the sideroad, blocking it and cutting off our short driveway, where Dad usually leaves in the morning. There are still about seven feet or so of trunk standing beside our house with the rest of the row of maples. These trees are right in the perfect spot to take out our power, our cable, our phone lines, and, should they fall on the house just several feet away, the computer and half of the upstairs and probably the entire dining room with them. I've long been fearing that a slanty-looking one will do just that. But this tree--which was NOT the one I'd been expecting to fall--had fallen the OTHER way, across the road and toward the neighbor's lawn. It hadn't taken down a single line with it. What's more, its branches had fallen down all around our mailbox and had it surrounded on all sides...yet aside from being slightly tilted, the mailbox itself was intact. O_O Amazing.
I went out in the dark after Dad left via the other driveway and took a few pictures with the flash. I came back in and went online, but I couldn't stand the thought of just surfing around while one of our trees was blocking the road! Dad had said Ma should call "the county" when she got up but that was hours away yet, so I asked her, half asleep, who I should call, the sheriff's department or the Department of Public Safety or what?? I had no clue! It was a fallen tree, blocking the road, but there were no lines arcing or anything. I finally decided to try the sheriff's department again. *sigh* The deputy there (she sounded exactly the same as the other one who patched me through to the Humane Society) said, in response to "Who do I call to report a downed tree blocking the road?"--"Just call 911." 911 AGAIN! First for a sickly raccoon, and now for a downed but perfectly courteous tree. How pathetic is that! I thanked her and called 911 and made sure to say that the sheriff's department had referred me, because it just seems utterly silly to call 911 to tell them a tree has fallen in the woods and...okay, never mind. I'm probably the only person who feels like apologizing every time I call 911. I'd be like, "Hello, 911, I'm sorry, but my arm's half cut off...I really hate bothering you..." Actually I think I'd call Ma at work first and ask her if it'd be okay for me to call 911, by which time I'd probably be dead, oh well, no biggie.
"Hello, 911."
"Hi, the sheriff's department said I should call here, we have a tree that's fallen down across the road."
"Which road would this be, ma'am?"
"H. Road."
"Is that the one that goes east from the highway?"
"Yes, that's it."
"Is it blocking both lanes?"
"Yes, it is."
"Will it require a chainsaw to remove?"
O_o "Ah...yes, it's an entire tree."
"All right, we'll call the Road Commission and they'll take care of it."
"Okay, thank you very much."
CRIPES. I hung up and determined to just go online and think no more of it, so I did. About an hour and a half later, the guys from the Road Commission (I think that's what she called it, at least) arrived and commenced cutting it up. When I went outside not that long ago to see what's become of the poor tree, I found that they'd left the still-leafy branches and much of the sawed-up trunk across the road IN THE NEIGHBOR'S YARD, and part of the trunk in our yard. As much as I can't stand our neighbors, that's our tree! There's a big stump in our yard to prove it. I wonder why they dumped it over there?? When Dad called a little while ago to ask what had become of the tree and I told him this, he laughed and said we'd have to remove it, then told me to go out there and move the branches. Um, HAR HAR, Dad. I decided to pick a small piece of trunk to keep for myself, as a memento of the poor tree, and selected a nice one from the neighbor's yard only to have to flip it end over end over end over end over end...etc....just to get it back into our yard and near the door. Cripes! Who knew wood could be so heavy?? If that's the luck I had with that bitty piece then the neighbors will just have to be patient. It's kind of funny though because this neighbor is uber-fastidious about his lawn...he's ALWAYS mowing it...just ridiculous. At least the road crew righted our tilted mailbox, and aside from a lot of sawdust in the road, and all the scattered wood, everything seems okay for now. *cross fingers*
*cue mental image of Tehuti flip-flip-flipping a hunk of tree trunk across the road while a spotted cat watches curiously*
After that I told the poor TREE that it too could stay with my pine tree if it needed to, and tried counting the rings visible on the section of trunk I rescued...I counted over sixty...these trees are older than I thought! And they're not even old maples. I could put my arms around them. Wow. This tree, like the raccoon, has been sick and dying for quite a while, so if a tree had to go, it may as well have been this one. I'm still amazed that it missed everything and didn't even destroy our mailbox. It's like the tree fell in the best way it could just to minimalize damage. What a good tree.
Sometimes, when I'm seeking for meaning for my life, I ask myself if these things happen on purpose?--a sick raccoon and a sick tree--and a rabbit killed by a dog, and a snake hit by a car, and who knows what else--just so I in particular can pick up the pieces and ask them to stay with my pine tree if they have to. I don't know if they have spirits, if they understand, if spirits even hang out or would want to stay with a pine tree, if a pine tree can even accept spirits to hang out around it...I don't know any of this. I just do it just in case they all CAN. Most of the times I feel too stupid and lousy about myself to think my life has that much meaning. Once in a while though I wonder. If the tree had fallen on someone else's property, or if the raccoon had stopped on someone else's porch, or the rabbit had gotten killed or the snake hit elsewhere, nobody probably would have cared. The fur would've been cleaned up, the raccoon tossed out, the snake left in the road, the tree chopped up and burnt...no big deal. I feel sorry for each of them. I can't bear the thought of just tossing them away or forgetting about them. Is that why they all seem to center around here?
Probably not...but sometimes I get really depressed and have to look for meaning in SOMETHING since I can't seem to find it elsewhere. -_-
Well, before I become any more of a downer I think I'm done. And I'm getting tired of calling 911 over such ridiculous things. You'd think I could have my arm decently cut off the next time I have to call them or something.
And now there's an AT&T vehicle hovering around our house...DAMMIT we just paid that bill! >_<
UPDATE: Dad spent a good deal of time removing much of the wood from the neighbors' yard. When he came back in to sit down and rest, he got a phone call from the neighbors...asking if they could have the wood. _-_
Okay, so, I've had to call 911 twice so far in less than the space of a month, and neither time was what I'd call an "emergency." >_< No wonder the 911 system is so overstrained.
The first time was a couple of weeks or so ago when I startled a friendly raccoon which was dozing on our porch one morning. This scared the liver out of me, but I managed to gently shoo it off and put out my bird food. Several hours later, though, it was back. I thought this was as cute as hell and took lots of pictures. It even lay down for a nap. But I began to get worried that it was going to STAY and keep all the other animals away, so I tried shooing it off again, by rapping on the door, yelling, and even opening the door and poking out a broom. When the raccoon went to the bottom of the steps and stood up, started seizing, and then fell over, I kind of figured it wasn't merely friendly and something was wrong. -_- When I again tried to shoo it away, it insisted on COMING TO THE DOOR, so I freaked out and shut the door and tried to figure out what to do. I tried calling the DNR, but got only a recorded message and they're like a half hour away anyway. Tried calling the sheriff's department to get in touch with Animal Control. Got patched through to the Humane Society, which told me to call...911! O_o ?? For a sick raccoon?? I'd understand if the raccoon had bitten me, or was currently biting me, but it hadn't. It was just sick. Still, I called 911 anyway, because there was a poor sick raccoon languishing on our porch. By now the pathetic thing was just lying there panting, occasionally trying to sip a drink of water from a planter in the corner. I felt so awful just looking at it, and felt like a fool for not that long ago having giggled and snapped pictures of it like it was the cutest thing on Earth. It WAS cute, and I like to hope that it WAS really a friendly raccoon, but it was also deathly ill.
Got through to 911 and asked, "Who do I call to report a sick wild animal?" The operator said she could get me the number of the DNR office in Gaylord (!!!), where I could get a live person, but Gaylord is so frigging far away! When I informed her that the sick animal in question was a raccoon, she said, "They probably won't do anything about it." She told me how the DNR just doesn't tend to do anything about sick raccoons, and the only thing to be done is to just let them be, and hope that they wander off and die. Apparently they tend to get distempered this time of year. Here I'd been thinking it might be rabies--but I knew nothing about distemper. I decided to not bother with the DNR, because I remembered a story Dad had told me about him calling the DNR where he works about some sick raccoons, only to be told, "Well, if you manage to kill one, you can bring it to us for testing." !!! What good is the DNR for?? Cripes. I thanked the 911 operator and hung up. I'd just have to hope that the raccoon wandered away, or tell Dad when he got home. Unfortunately, poor raccoon didn't seem interested in leaving. It was so sick. -_- I looked up "Distemper" at Wikipedia and learned that there are two kinds, canine and feline, and raccoons can carry BOTH. Oh, GOODIE. I kept Coz inside now and hoped that the poor raccoon had canine distemper. That's the one they usually get around this time of year--another website had said that there are huge die-offs of raccoons from canine distemper every year in Michigan--so I really hope that's what it had. I went to bed and didn't sleep very well. You know, not that long before this incident I'd dreamed that an angry mother chipmunk was after me until I finally stopped and let her bite me on purpose, only to find that the bites didn't hurt as much as I'd feared they would. Huh.
Anyway, I woke up a few hours later and Dad was home; he said, "Guess who's come back to the porch." I had to tell him the poor thing was probably sick, and I described how it had acted, and he agreed that it sounded like the sick raccoons at work. I asked what he would do and he said he would have to shoot it. I was actually relieved, because the poor thing's other option was to just suffer and get other animals sick. I couldn't stand the thought of it just lying out there, and lying out there, and lying out there...so thirsty...I wanted so much to give it some water but I didn't want to encourage it to stay, even though it was obvious it was going nowhere. -_- Dad said he would have to bury it on our property, which also relieved me, as I thought he'd just carry it to work and toss it in a Dumpster, which seems terribly ignoble. I went back to bed; a short while later he came to the door to tell me he was going out to take care of it, and I waited and started praying like mad. Now, the head of my bed is right below one of my west windows--which directly overlook the front porch...meaning this raccoon was just several feet away from me, so I could hear everything that was going on (my window was open since it was warm). I heard Dad walking around the house and he said something to the raccoon, but I couldn't hear it. He'd said that he would have to hit it first to stun it so he could shoot it, I assume without having a struggle. So after a brief silence I heard this awful thud, and this pathetic little squeal...then a gunshot. -_- I can hardly bear the thought of the poor thing being hit...I do hope it was knocked out and barely felt anything. I know it had to be done, but it still makes me feel awful.
Well...I certainly couldn't get back to sleep after that, so I got up, got dressed, found my tobacco, and went outside. By the time I reached the porch Dad was already finishing up burying the raccoon where he'd killed it (right near where I buried Katchoo years ago--I'm so glad he didn't accidentally dig her up!!) since he'd said there was a "lot of blood," though fortunately I never saw any of it. I scattered some tobacco on the grave and Dad said, "It's best this way. They can be sick for weeks before dying." I know, but I still felt terribly sorry for the poor thing, and angry with myself for being so ignorant. The poor thing had been terribly sick and here I was, taking photos and then trying to shoo it away. -_- I offered to let it stay with my pine tree if it needed to. Dad said that tomorrow I should wash off the porch with a bucket of water, but we got a heavy rain that night, so I didn't have to. A day or so later he brought home some big flagstones...or whatever...and put them over the grave to keep other animals from digging. I keep Coz away from the porch and hope that the raccoon didn't wander around or infect anything else. I read that the distemper virus can survive in warm temperatures only for a few hours, but still, I really, really hope poor Coz doesn't get sick. He seems fine so far. *knock on wood*
That same night Coz trotted into the room with a fat mouse. >_< Ugh, I've had enough of death and destruction, thank you very much. Dad let the mouse go outside.
Well...last night I went to take a nap (I seem to sleep both during the day and at night now...*sigh*), and dozed off with my little machine making rain noises, and had this dream in which a bunch of trees were falling all around our house and in our long driveway. I woke up and it was really windy outside, which surprised me since they hadn't called for that in the weather reports. I turned off my machine to listen to the wind instead. As I dozed off I heard a couple of little thumps, then a terrible THUD from outside, which woke me up immediately. It woke up Ma as well, and just about NOTHING wakes her up. She went back to bed even as I thought, that must've been a tree falling. I hoped that none would fall on the house, and went back to sleep, albeit a bit nervously. When Dad got up for work I told him about it, and he left to get in his vehicle. A moment later he was pounding on the door for me to unlock it.
Turns out the tree...was one of OUR trees...and it had fallen right across the sideroad, blocking it and cutting off our short driveway, where Dad usually leaves in the morning. There are still about seven feet or so of trunk standing beside our house with the rest of the row of maples. These trees are right in the perfect spot to take out our power, our cable, our phone lines, and, should they fall on the house just several feet away, the computer and half of the upstairs and probably the entire dining room with them. I've long been fearing that a slanty-looking one will do just that. But this tree--which was NOT the one I'd been expecting to fall--had fallen the OTHER way, across the road and toward the neighbor's lawn. It hadn't taken down a single line with it. What's more, its branches had fallen down all around our mailbox and had it surrounded on all sides...yet aside from being slightly tilted, the mailbox itself was intact. O_O Amazing.
I went out in the dark after Dad left via the other driveway and took a few pictures with the flash. I came back in and went online, but I couldn't stand the thought of just surfing around while one of our trees was blocking the road! Dad had said Ma should call "the county" when she got up but that was hours away yet, so I asked her, half asleep, who I should call, the sheriff's department or the Department of Public Safety or what?? I had no clue! It was a fallen tree, blocking the road, but there were no lines arcing or anything. I finally decided to try the sheriff's department again. *sigh* The deputy there (she sounded exactly the same as the other one who patched me through to the Humane Society) said, in response to "Who do I call to report a downed tree blocking the road?"--"Just call 911." 911 AGAIN! First for a sickly raccoon, and now for a downed but perfectly courteous tree. How pathetic is that! I thanked her and called 911 and made sure to say that the sheriff's department had referred me, because it just seems utterly silly to call 911 to tell them a tree has fallen in the woods and...okay, never mind. I'm probably the only person who feels like apologizing every time I call 911. I'd be like, "Hello, 911, I'm sorry, but my arm's half cut off...I really hate bothering you..." Actually I think I'd call Ma at work first and ask her if it'd be okay for me to call 911, by which time I'd probably be dead, oh well, no biggie.
"Hello, 911."
"Hi, the sheriff's department said I should call here, we have a tree that's fallen down across the road."
"Which road would this be, ma'am?"
"H. Road."
"Is that the one that goes east from the highway?"
"Yes, that's it."
"Is it blocking both lanes?"
"Yes, it is."
"Will it require a chainsaw to remove?"
O_o "Ah...yes, it's an entire tree."
"All right, we'll call the Road Commission and they'll take care of it."
"Okay, thank you very much."
CRIPES. I hung up and determined to just go online and think no more of it, so I did. About an hour and a half later, the guys from the Road Commission (I think that's what she called it, at least) arrived and commenced cutting it up. When I went outside not that long ago to see what's become of the poor tree, I found that they'd left the still-leafy branches and much of the sawed-up trunk across the road IN THE NEIGHBOR'S YARD, and part of the trunk in our yard. As much as I can't stand our neighbors, that's our tree! There's a big stump in our yard to prove it. I wonder why they dumped it over there?? When Dad called a little while ago to ask what had become of the tree and I told him this, he laughed and said we'd have to remove it, then told me to go out there and move the branches. Um, HAR HAR, Dad. I decided to pick a small piece of trunk to keep for myself, as a memento of the poor tree, and selected a nice one from the neighbor's yard only to have to flip it end over end over end over end over end...etc....just to get it back into our yard and near the door. Cripes! Who knew wood could be so heavy?? If that's the luck I had with that bitty piece then the neighbors will just have to be patient. It's kind of funny though because this neighbor is uber-fastidious about his lawn...he's ALWAYS mowing it...just ridiculous. At least the road crew righted our tilted mailbox, and aside from a lot of sawdust in the road, and all the scattered wood, everything seems okay for now. *cross fingers*
*cue mental image of Tehuti flip-flip-flipping a hunk of tree trunk across the road while a spotted cat watches curiously*
After that I told the poor TREE that it too could stay with my pine tree if it needed to, and tried counting the rings visible on the section of trunk I rescued...I counted over sixty...these trees are older than I thought! And they're not even old maples. I could put my arms around them. Wow. This tree, like the raccoon, has been sick and dying for quite a while, so if a tree had to go, it may as well have been this one. I'm still amazed that it missed everything and didn't even destroy our mailbox. It's like the tree fell in the best way it could just to minimalize damage. What a good tree.
Sometimes, when I'm seeking for meaning for my life, I ask myself if these things happen on purpose?--a sick raccoon and a sick tree--and a rabbit killed by a dog, and a snake hit by a car, and who knows what else--just so I in particular can pick up the pieces and ask them to stay with my pine tree if they have to. I don't know if they have spirits, if they understand, if spirits even hang out or would want to stay with a pine tree, if a pine tree can even accept spirits to hang out around it...I don't know any of this. I just do it just in case they all CAN. Most of the times I feel too stupid and lousy about myself to think my life has that much meaning. Once in a while though I wonder. If the tree had fallen on someone else's property, or if the raccoon had stopped on someone else's porch, or the rabbit had gotten killed or the snake hit elsewhere, nobody probably would have cared. The fur would've been cleaned up, the raccoon tossed out, the snake left in the road, the tree chopped up and burnt...no big deal. I feel sorry for each of them. I can't bear the thought of just tossing them away or forgetting about them. Is that why they all seem to center around here?
Probably not...but sometimes I get really depressed and have to look for meaning in SOMETHING since I can't seem to find it elsewhere. -_-
Well, before I become any more of a downer I think I'm done. And I'm getting tired of calling 911 over such ridiculous things. You'd think I could have my arm decently cut off the next time I have to call them or something.
And now there's an AT&T vehicle hovering around our house...DAMMIT we just paid that bill! >_<
UPDATE: Dad spent a good deal of time removing much of the wood from the neighbors' yard. When he came back in to sit down and rest, he got a phone call from the neighbors...asking if they could have the wood. _-_