The Black Devil

I went to the hospital early this morning to knock out the last two elective cases on the calendar. All other elective cases are on standby, emergent stuff only. There are three official evacuation shelters in my area, and they were filling up at six this morning. By the time I stripped off my surgical scrubs around 11:00, they were all full to overflowing, and people were feigning heart problems and other assorted ailments so they could get themselves and their families into the hospital. This is one time I am thankful I do not work emergency anymore*.

Once home, I began to take inventory of all the items my wife had purchased the past couple of days. Fifteen days worth of toilet paper.....Check. Beaucoup canned goods..........Check. Cigars.........Check. Distilled water to keep the saltwater tanks at a correct salinity for the fishies........Check.

Getting a generator at this late date is a lost cause. Instead, I am going to rely on minnow bucket aerators to keep the tanks going if need be. The neighborhood is full of live oaks that shed limbs on power lines without discrimination. If we lose power though, I don't expect it to last more than a day or two. Judicious use of battery power will more than cover the fish, I believe. Food, water, toilet paper, a crank 'em up radio, buckshot, and a good charge on the cell phone, and I should be good.

Of greater concern is the additional people who are out and about. Last night, as my wife slept and as I was publishing the "Locking and Loading" piece, Ilsa was asleep at my feet. Suddenly she perked up, jerked up, and sauntered to the front of the house with a purpose. That's not unusual, really, she usually inspects things and comes back to snooze some more.

This time was different. I heard her snort at the front door, and suddenly start barking with determination. I placed the nearest loaded gun at hand, a nickel Model 10 snubbie into my pocket and went to see what was the matter.

Ilsa was not giving up. I placed her leather quick leash over her head and without turning on the porch light, I took a look through the peephole. Nothing. Ilsa was insistent, still barking, and snarling gutteral growls.

I quickly opened the front door and Ilsa lunged forward on the leash, white teeth flashing and barking into the darkness. Two dark figures bolted away from my wife's car, shouting "Diablo! Diablo!" In a flurry of feet they were down the street, without looking back. Ilsa strained at her leash, standing up on her hind legs to get at them. To calm her down, I took her around to the areas where they had been, and let her urinate on all the spots she wanted. My wife's car was still secured. After that, the night was quiet.

*Scratch that....... In the middle of typing this post, I got called back to the hospital because of some jughead in the convention center.