My dog Brutie started barking at 6 o’clock. That’s when the roofing crew arrived – three trucks, a trailer and at least a dozen workers. We had serious hail damage from the recent storms, and a new roof was going on.
Brutie continued barking as they unloaded a mountain of shingles. Forty squares they said. Then he challenged them when they set up their ladders and headed topside with their roofing shovels.
When they started digging the old roof off, Brutie lost it. He’s always on the lookout for squirrels, and he must have thought the whole tribe was having a family get-together on the roof. His barks grew more urgent.
After a half-hour of trying to reassure him and placate his fears, we loaded him into the car and drove him to our son’s house for the day.
“You’ll love it,” I told him. “They have bunnies there that you can chase.”
He looked doubtful and growled back toward our house as we drove away.
Back home, my wife and I settled in as the rampage continued overhead. Once the shovel work was done, they spread out long sheets of black roofing felt and the hammering began. Unconsciously, we found ourselves tapping our toes in time with the banging. I think it was a foxtrot beat. My wife said it sounded more like a rumba.
They used air guns to install the new shingles – a startling sound. I’ve seen enough John Wayne movies to know machine gun fire when I hear it. We were under siege. We hunkered down and took shallow breaths.
Then, just when our nerves were about to snap, everything stopped. The silence was eerie. The clean-up crew swept the yard clean. Then they packed up their trucks and drove away.
Back home, Brutie checked everything twice. He couldn’t believe the squirrels were gone.