Sherry Churchill

Just as the rest of Florida was recovering from Charley and Frances, Hurricane Ivan was already a strong Category IV storm churning in the Gulf of Mexico.

When my husband, Larry, looked at me gravely and said, "We need to evacuate," I was stunned.

Our house is 500 feet from Perdido Bay, which divides Florida from Alabama. It seemed surreal, as if we had stepped into a sci-fi movie set. I resented having to uproot our two kitties. Princess was nearly 17 with health problems and Ling was a 7 year old Siamese recent adoptee who was already afraid of everything.

We managed to find a hotel north of town that took pets, so we went there. The hotel was brick, but an older building, and we were on the top floor with an outside entry. Princess calmly curled up in a corner to sleep, while Ling, crouched under the bed, wide-eyed and unblinking.

Our power went out around 10pm. By 1:30am, we were in the height of the storm. We started noticing numerous leaks in the ceiling and did what we could to catch the falling water. I pointed out a couple puckers in the wall, but we overlooked the implications. Exhausted, I laid down and was almost asleep when Larry yelled, "Run!! Run!!" He yanked me off the bed in time to escape the entire ceiling caving in! I was hit with debris, but not hurt.

Suddenly, I screamed, "My kitties? Where are my kitties?"

Larry began grabbing and throwing the pieces of ceiling, insulation and plaster that was covering the bed to get to our kittens. He yanked back the mattress and grabbed Princess and Ling who were both terrified. I shoved them into their carriers and we huddled in the 3x5 bathroom, watching what was left of the roof shake with every vicious gust.

The wind was terrifying. We both were sure we were going to die. There was debris flying everywhere outside and over 100 mile an hour sustained winds. The fury of it seemed like pure, angry evil.

After two hours of sitting in the tiny bathroom, I let the cats out to get some water and use the litter box. Instead, a terrified Ling climbed through a hole under the sink and down into the wall. I saw her just in time to grab the last three inches of her tail and haul her out, while sobbing, "No Ling! Come back!"

Around 5:30am, with the wind still furiously whipping, hotel staff rescued us and helped us to the lobby, where most of the guests were gathering with pillows, blankets, dogs and children.

After a couple hours, Larry went back to the room to locate a few items and take them to our vehicles. Ling, by now, was really restless in her crate and turned several somersaults, while whining and growling and ripping up her fuzzy bed. She looked like a cartoon character, with white fuzz all over her face. I couldn't tell if she was mad or deliberately being comical. She made me laugh, but I was so grateful she was alive. Princess actually went to sleep in her carrier and seemed not the least bit nervous.

We were finally able to drive home on Friday. Despite the catastrophic damage all around us, our house stood with hardly any damage at all.

In the following weeks, I realized I could not begin to list the things and people whom we are both so very grateful for.

The kitties now act like nothing happened, except that Ling seems to have lost much of her irrational fears. Even if we had lost everything, as many did, my most prized possessions are sitting next to me, purring.