Thunder Dog - Michael Hingson [60]
I took Karen’s elevator downstairs to let the dogs out then limped around the kitchen and put on some hot water for a cup of PG tips. I was spreading butter on a toasted English muffin when it hit me. There’s no more office to go back to.
I stopped, holding the knife over the muffin, and memories of the day before began to rush back, replaying in my head. I again heard the noise of the towers falling, the frightened screams, and the breaking glass. I shook my head, trying to clear it out. Enough.
I tightened my grip on the knife and turned my attention back to the muffin. There would be time later to think through everything that had happened. For now, I just wanted to enjoy my breakfast. And I did. It was delicious. In fact, I think it was the best meal I ever had.
Karen and I spent the day resting, fielding calls from friends and family, and consulting my doctor and Roselle’s vet. I started on a course of antibiotics to forestall any looming respiratory issues from having inhaled dust and fumes. There were already reports about toxins in the dust cloud, including asbestos. Roselle’s vet advised no special treatment for her, just rest and routine.
I also gave Guide Dogs for the Blind a call to let them know Roselle and I were okay. I asked them how to take care of Roselle. Was there anything I needed to do to help her recover from working through such a catastrophic experience?
“Dogs live in the moment,” they reminded me, explaining that Labrador retrievers are so adaptable that they generally bounce back from traumatic events quickly with no lingering ill effects. And as Roselle romped around with Linnie, I detected no soreness or fatigue. If only I could say the same.
The realization reassured me. If Roselle’s mind and emotions recovered as quickly as her body, then she was in good shape. There didn’t seem to be any fear or timidity in her. She didn’t act shell-shocked at all. I don’t think she was reliving the sights and sounds of yesterday. She was much more interested in where Linnie hid the Booda Bone.
E-mail Message from Guide Dogs for the Blind
From: Betsy Irving
Sent: Wednesday, September 12, 2001 12:22 p.m.
To: All Guide Dogs for the Blind Employees (all sites)
Subject: World Trade Center
We, in the Puppy Raising Department at Guide Dogs for the Blind, thought you would want to know this story. Thank you again for raising an outstanding guide.
I received a call from graduate Michael Hingson with Roselle, Yellow Lab, Class #606. He was in the World Trade Center yesterday in the Number One tower on the 78th floor when the first plane hit. Luckily, the plane hit the other side of the building. He and Roselle walked down 78 floors to get out of the building. He, along with his staff and many others, met firefighters going up. Shortly after they exited the building, the Number Two tower collapsed, so they were moving quickly down the street to get out of the way of the debris. He made it home last night about 7 p.m. after staying with a friend in mid-Manhattan until the trains were running again. He said Roselle was a trooper through the whole ordeal!
It was a quiet morning. When Karen came downstairs, she mentioned that outside she could see the smoke rising from the site of the World Trade Center, twenty miles away.
We were glued to the TV for most of the day. Reporters covered the ongoing search for survivors in the rubble, along with the national effort to secure likely terrorist targets, such as airports, power plants, government buildings, and bridges. We watched footage of firefighters, police officers, and Port Authority employees in shock and grieving their losses. Thousands of New Yorkers were out posting pictures of their missing loved ones in the public areas of Manhattan in hopes that someone, somewhere, could help them find the lost.
In the afternoon, I got a