It Was Raining Cats and Dogs

Yesterday’s rainstorm reminded me of a Saturday morning years ago.

I was working alone in my office, which used to be my Saturday hideout because I could accomplish a lot more than on a weekday when I’d be constantly bombarded with questions.

Our office building badly needed a new roof. For nine months we’d waited for a day when we were absolutely certain it wouldn’t rain. The weather service had confirmed — no rain for a week. So, on Thursday we had torn off the old roof which was scheduled to be replaced on Monday. But no one told the weather gods.

As I sat at my desk, I heard the sound of a light drizzle. For ten minutes there were no leaks, it seemed the plywood underneath where the roof used to be was holding, so I relaxed. And then, rainwater started to drip from the ceiling onto my desk.

I immediately called Daveen.

“Please bring to the office as many bowls, and pots and pans as you can. The roof is leaking.”

A few minutes later the roofers unexpectedly arrived, bearing the gift of tarps as a temporary cover. Their thought was good. Their execution — not so much. The roof leaked anyway.

The ceiling in my office was ruined, as was the carpet. As was my bank account after the repair work.

I resolved that in the future I wouldn’t rely on a newspaper weather report to decide when it would be a good time to rip the roof off of one of the many apartment buildings we managed.

Even so, for years I dreaded rain because, well, roofs don’t leak when it’s not raining, and I had experienced too many $30,000 rains.

If it had merely rained actual cats and dogs I wouldn’t have needed to do as much work to repair my office building.

Meow and Woof!

Alan