It was the kind of storm I absolutely love when curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with a nice mug of tea. It was the kind of storm I'm not so fond of when huddled in a van that could hydroplane at any second with one wrong move, trying not to touch anything metallic, at the end of what would be a 16 1/2 hour day. The animals seemed blissfully unaware in their kennels at the back of the van as periodic flashes of lightening lit up the drowning road ahead as though it was mid day.
The storm had started about halfway through the show Nick and I were presenting at one of several resorts we regularly visit. Thankfully, the rain had been anticipated and we were inside the lodge instead of out on the lawn as usual. But it got nothing but worse as we headed back to the centre to put the animals away for the night. Returning all the animals to their enclosures wouldn't have been such a depressing prospect if not for poor Quilber, the porcupine, and the only one who of our crew who lived out on the trail and not within the building right next to where we could park the van. Nick commented that he almost felt bad for Quilber being put back in the middle of the pouring rain. I agreed.
We arrived back at the centre and made a mad dash to get inside, where we grabbed raincoats to keep us (mostly) dry while returning Quilber to his enclosure. With the light of a single, feeble flashlight to show us the way through almost total darkness, we carried his crate along what turned out to be a completely flooded trail. I walked right past the enclosure and had to double back. There was no sign of Thistle, the second porcupine, who was presumably curled up in one of the shelters.
Normally, returning Quilber is a simple affair involving putting the kennel down beside the gate, opening it up, and letting him walk in. This time, though, Nick took the kennel right inside the enclosure and then opened it. Quilber toddled out, got about three of his feet onto the ground, realised he was in the middle of a thunderstorm, and tried to get back inside. I felt terrible!
It wasn't really all that late, but after 16 1/2 hours, it felt like about 1am, and I still had to drive home. I was completely soaked from the knees down, and my shoes made a sloshing sound with every step. After briefly considering stripping down and driving home in my underwear, I decided that I'd never get my shoes back on, so instead I cranked up the heat and headed out. I can now say that my car handles very nicely when there's an inch of water on top of the road.
Crawling into a nice warm bed never felt so good.
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