We took our nephew to the amusement park Friday, rode all the roller coasters, and didn’t get home until dinner time–when we saw that the sliding glass door was smashed:
Everything in the house looked fine but we couldn’t find Toby for about 10 minutes. That cold feeling of panic that he’d gotten out settled in…until we found him squeezed behind the washing machine upstairs.
After we found the cat, it was just a giant mess but not a tragedy (nothing was taken, either). Three hours later, we had it cleaned up and boarded up:
Because it happened Friday night, though, I still haven’t been able to get in contact with an insurance agent or a glass company. So that’s on the agenda for today.
We still don’t know what broke it (probably never will) but it could have been a lot worse. But it does kind of feel like the universe heard me say, “This was the hardest work week I’ve ever had,” and said, Hold my beer.
Yikes! Glad Toby wasn’t lost… I wonder what the hell happened?