The Dog Days of Summer

Silence. Not just quiet, but silence. Total silence. No more humming from all of the electric and electronic appliances in the house. Just, nothing.

Blackout. 

I looked at my watch — 8:24 p.m. I hoped it wasn’t going to last too long. First, because, well — duh — no Wi-Fi, and second because it had been in the 90s all week long, and it was still in the 80s and the house would turn into a sweat box without the a/c. And, I was seven months pregnant, so, yuck.

The first thing I did was check my phone. I had a signal. I tried calling, Barry, my husband.

“Due to an unexpectedly high volume of calls, we are unable to complete your call at this time. Please try again later,” the annoying automated voice told me. 

I sent him a text instead, which did go through. The power’s out here —you too?

My phone pinged back almost immediately. Yup. All over the city. It’s going to be a crazy night. Will probably be late.

Barry was a police officer. He worked downtown, which, even when the electricity was working was usually a bit of a circus, especially on a Friday night. A bit of worry squirrelled around in my gut. Barry was smart and careful. He’d be fine.

Opening the front door, I walked out onto my porch. The blackout had brought all of my neighbours outside. I quickly closed the door hoping to keep the precious cool air inside.

“Hey, Wanda,” I said looking to my neighbour on the right. I could just see her in the waning light.

“Do you know what happened?” she asked me. Wanda and Nick, her husband, were both in their seventies, and had immigrated from Poland about fifty years ago. Barry’s parents were from Poland, so Wanda had pseudo-adopted us, gifting us with homemade Polish delights, imparting advice about life, and generally being amazing neighbours. We felt lucky to have them living beside us.

“No. I haven’t heard yet. I hope it doesn’t last too long.”

“Ya. It is too hot out. Everything will spoil.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I remember when I was a kid we had this huge blackout that lasted almost twenty-four hours. My father guarded the fridge door like it was Fort Knox, not letting anyone open the door in case some of the cold got out. Only exception — his beer.

I decided to to take our dog, Norm, for a walk, and check out what was happening in the neighbourhood. The dark didn’t bother me. And Norm did need his walk. I usually walked him at night anyway, because it was too hot during the day. 

Norm’s a rescue who we adopted as an adult dog, and I love his laidback and chill nature. He is a very good boy. He was also a very big boy, about one-hundred-and-twenty-pounds big. We have no idea what breed he is. Maybe Chow, or giant German Shepherd, or Shetland pony. We’re not sure. But he is beautifully trained. He doesn’t pull when we walk, and he doesn’t try to eat other dogs or people, which is good. And, we’re finding out about all of his hidden talents. He can sit, stay, heel, down — the usual. But he can also do a bunch of other things that made me think he was a working dog at one point in his life — a dog with a job. Once night when I was walking him, some idiot let their pit bull off leash, and it came charging at us. Norm stepped between me and the other dog, and growled. The pitty came to a screeching halt, looked at Norm, and backed up until it was far enough away to turn and run. Norm’s fearless.

He’s a great guard dog, for which I’m eternally happy because Barry’s job means he works a lot of nights. Having Norm at home makes me sleep a little better. And once Bump is born, I’ll feel safe knowing he’s around.

I leashed up Norm and we headed down the street. The houses were built in the 1920s, in the inter-war period. All two storey, all brick, and, on our street at least, all well maintained. It’s a nice street to live on. It’s one way, north to south, which allows enough on-street parking. Our driveway is so narrow I don’t dare try to drive up it. I leave that to the steady hand of Barry.

Our house is in the middle of the second block up from St. Clair Avenue, a pretty impressive commercial street. I figured I’d walk down two blocks to St. Clair Avenue, then one block west to Dufferin Street, north to Rosecliffe, east to our street, Westmount, then south to home. Just a big block. What could happen in a block?

Norm and I headed down the street. People were out on their porches, talking to one another. It brought a smile to my face. This is what neighbourhood was all about — even if we lived in a city of four million people.

We walked down towards St. Clair Avenue. I always tell people I can buy anything on St. Clair Avenue — from fresh gelato, to ten tea towels for a couple of bucks, to a fifteen-thousand dollar wedding dress at Sposa Bella, a very chic wedding store — all this within a couple of blocks of our home. I don’t ever have to leave my neighbourhood. It’s great. 

Usually, St. Clair is a bustling street filled with people and cars, trucks, transit vehicles — even a night. There are a bunch of open air cafes, bars, and restaurants which keeps it hopping well into the night. Right now, though, traffic was at a standstill. I looked west towards Dufferin, and all the flashing lights. Mayhem.

Uh oh. Apparently, at the exact moment that the power went out, one of the ninety-foot long articulated electric streetcars was in the middle of the intersection at Dufferin, travelling east. Boom — north-south gridlock. The streetcar effectively blocked both sides of the intersection. Someone had tried to drive around it, and ended up hitting a northbound Dufferin bus, blocking the eastbound lanes of St. Clair. 

The westbound lanes of St. Clair were accident-free, but because two cars, one going east, one going west, met head-to-head in the middle of the intersection, they were blocking the westbound lanes, and traffic was completely stopped. There were two traffic cops in the intersection, but there was nothing they could do until a tow vehicle arrived to move the streetcar, but I didn’t see how it could get here because of the gridlock. It was looney-tunes.

Norm and I made our way west to Dufferin, and walked north towards home. People had gotten out of their cars, and were looking right pissed. It was hot, and they were, quite literally, stuck in traffic. There was no way to move. Until the power came back on, or the streetcar was towed away, these people were stuck. I felt badly for them. 

We turned right onto Rosecliffe, and headed the one block towards Westmount. I was glad that I didn’t have to drive anywhere tonight. 

We were at the corner, turning south, towards home, when a car came tearing down Westmount from the north, going wayyyyy over the speed limit, its headlights bouncing up and down over the speed bumps. At the same time an SUV that had stopped at the stop sign, started to enter the intersection. The car hit the SUV broadside. The car was travelling so fast that it flipped the SUV over on its side. The crunch of metal meeting metal filled the air. I heard screams from in the SUV. 

I turned to Norm, “Stay!” and ran to the SUV. There were an elderly couple in the car, both strapped in, looking a little bloody.

“Are you okay?” I asked. There were only moans in response. I whipped out my phone and dialled nine-one-one. The guy form the other car came running towards me.

“What are you doing? Don’t call the cops! Put your phone down!

“I’m calling nine-one-one. The people in the other car are hurt. “

The operator answered. “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency.”

I turned away from the guy. “Yeah, there’s been an accident at the corner of Westmount and Rosecliffe. There are two people trapped in their SUV. The other—“

The other driver made a move to grab my phone.

“Get away from me!”

Norm ran up beside me, growling.

“Hey, lady, get your dog offa me!”

“Then stay away from me.” 

The man made another strep towards me.

Norm growled again, showing him his ginormous dog teeth.

Before I went back to the nine-one-one operator, I took a picture of the guy, you know, in case he tried to get away. (Or maybe for my Insta, because Norm, my hero, was also in the photo, looking all guard-doggy-ish. Best doggo ever!)

I went back the nine-one-one operator, explained what had happened with the accident. Just as I was asking how long it would be before help arrive, one of the traffic cops from the streetcar fiasco came jogging up, immediately followed two ambulances arriving from the opposite direction, along Rosecliffe. 

I had Norm stand down, and told the officer what I had seen — that the guy was speeding and ran the stop sign, t-boned the SUV. Officer Harding — according to his name tag — took all my information, and we made arrangements for me to make a statement tomorrow. I checked on the older couple. They were being rolled up the street on gurneys, toward the waiting ambulances. Both were a little worse for wear, but the EMT told me they should be okay.

I looked around. Westmount was effectively closed off. No traffic until the flipped SUV and the car were removed. Officer Harding said it would probably be hours before they finished their investigation. 

Norm and I walked home. I was deciding what to do next, when I (and probably all of their other customers) received a text from the Hydro One.

This is a cascading blackout, involving most of eastern Canada and the eastern seaboard of the United States. There is no estimate as to when the power will be restored, but we expect that the blackout will last for between twelve and twenty-four hours, depending where you are.

“Well, damn,” I said. I figured we were in for a long, hot night.

I decided to sit out front. I dragged out a chair for myself, and Norm’s kiddie pool, into the driveway. I filled up the pool, and put my feet in. Ahh. Wonderful cool water!

Wanda came outside, and joined me. She took off her shoes support hose.

“Tess, this is wonderful! What a treat!”

Norm also got into the pool, and laid down.

“Excuse me, Tess, can I get in the pool, too?” It was Shawna Franklin from down the street. “My mom said it was okay.” Nancy, her mom, waved.

“Sure,” I said. Before too long, all the little kids from theneighbourhood splashing around in the pool. Wanda and I removed our feet, leaving it to the kids and Norm. I have an adorable picture of two little kids sitting on Norm’s back riding him like he’s the Loch Ness Monster. So cute!

More people came out and sat out on the street and in their driveways. Someone brought out their music. More and more people joined us. 

There was food, and drink, and everyone was having a blast. Tony and Maria, our neighbours on the other side brought out their charcoal grill and put on some water to cook corn. People across the street brought out snacks, and chips. I met so many new people that night. It was the first time that I had spoken to many of them, other than a wave or a simple hello. It was a lot of fun.

Kids were camping on their front lawns, looking at the sky. There were so many stars. The sky was so much brighter compared to our usual urban sky. Parents were lying beside their kids, pointing out man in the moon, the north star, the big dipper, Mars. It was a magical night. Until it wasn’t.

Barry called me from work. He told me there was mandatory overtime. He expected to be home in the morning, after working a double. He said things were a little chaotic, but going as well as could be expected. There had been some looting — smash and grabs mostly — at a number of stores downtown, so patrols were up. I was a little concerned. He told me not to worry, it was chaos, but the police were handling it. He said that his job right now was directing traffic at Dundas and Yonge, so no worries. His biggest concern was impatient drivers who blamed him, personally, for the outage. We laughed. He said he had to get back to work, and I told him to be careful, and that I’d see him in the morning. We hung up.

It was around eleven, and the group was thinning. The music had been turned off, and people were chilling, talking quietly, enjoying the special night. 

I said goodnight, and headed towards my house with my damp dog. I emptied the pool and dragged it into the backyard. I was tired, but I didn’t want to go inside the house, it was too hot. I was trying to decide whether I should sleep in the basement, where it was a little cooler than upstairs, but full of spiders, or on the deck. I decided on the deck. I pulled out my yoga mat, and lay down. Suddenly, gunshots filled the air. Pop! Pop! Pop! Norm was up in a flash, growling. I heard people yelling and screaming from the street east of me, Northcliffe Avenue. I sat up, just as someone jumped my back fence. A dark figure ran towards the driveway between the houses, right by me without seeing me sitting there. Or he wouldn’t have, if Norm hadn’t barked at him.

He turned towards the sound, bringing up a gun, pointing it at Norm. It glowed a dull silver in the moonlight.

“No! Don’t shoot!” I cried. “Norm, leave it! Quiet!” Norm stopped barking, but his gaze never left the man with the gun. 

“I don’t want any trouble lady. Don’t make me shoot your dog.”

“He won’t do anything. Just leave.”

He looked toward the backyard, where other voices could be heard on the other side of the fence. “Anyone else in the house?”

“No, just me and the dog.” Dumb answer, Tess!

“Let’s go inside.”

I struggled to get up. Shaking legs and being seven months pregnant, made me awkward. I slowly stood up.

“The dog stays outside.”

I didn’t move.

He came up the stairs, motioning me forward with the gun. I knew that if I went in the house with him, I was a potential hostage.

“In the house!” he yelled.

“No.”

“Listen lady, don’t make me hurt you. In the house! Now!” He took another step toward me. 

Norm launched himself through the air, knocking the man down, clamping his jaws down on his gun hand. He dropped his weapon and screamed. I kicked it away. 

The people on the street had heard the commotion in the backyard, and came running. 

“Norm, off!” 

Tony and Jake, two of my neighbours, jumped up the stairs, and knelt on the guy’s back.

“Norm, Guard!” I commanded.

Wanda came huffing down the driveway. “I have called the police. They will try to get here quickly. They are going to tell Barry.”

A small crowd gathered in my backyard. Wanda tottered back to her home and returned in a few minutes with a pair of handcuffs (there was no way I was going to ask her why she had them), and some zip ties.

“Maybe, we should, how do they say it on television, hook him up?”

“Good idea,” said Tony, who took the handcuffs, ratcheting them around the intruder’s wrists.

“We should do his feet as well!” said Wanda. “We don’t want him running off with my handcuffs!”

Sean zip-tied his feet together, and we all waited around for the police to arrive.

About twenty minutes later, they arrived, driving the wrong way up the street, lights flashing and sirens wailing. It was Officer Harding, the same officer from this afternoon — was it only this afternoon? It seemed like it was days ago. He arrived with his partner, Officer Commanda.

“Wow,” said Harding, “you’ve had quite the day!”

I had to agree. “Most of my days are not like this.” I turned to Norm, who was still guarding the guy. “Norm’s had a very busy day, too.”

Right then Barry ran down the driveway, flying up the stairs to the deck, and hugging me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I will be. Norm saved us.” I looked over at Norm. Officer Commanda was looking at him as well, only more warily.

“Norm! Leave it!” I said. “Come!”

He trotted over, all pleased with himself.

“Who’s the best boy?” I asked him. He wagged his tail, and leaned against me, as if saying I am!

******

Officer Harding took away the intruder, saying the he would be back tomorrow for my, now, two statements. Officer Commanda scooped up the gun and put it in a plastic evidence bag, and returned Wanda’s handcuffs, thanking her for her help. She blushed, and left for her home. It was almost two a.m.

Barry turned towards me. “You were lucky. We think that guy and his crew were responsible for a home invasion on Northcliffe. They beat and robbed the family, shooting the sixteen-year-old son. The doctors think that he’ll be okay.”

He bent down, and hugged Norm.

“Thank you, buddy, you saved our family I’m so glad you were here.”

Right at that moment, the lights came back on.