When I was 19 years old, I was sitting in my dorm room in North Carolina and the floor shook slightly. I assumed someone was running along the wooden balcony on the other side of the wall. I gave it no further thought until the next day, when I heard on the radio that we had had a minor earthquake. That is the extent of my earthquake experience.
Now I am in the Pacific Northwest, and I’ve been told by more than one person that we are overdue for a big one. One guy even said, “Always have a pair of comfortable shoes on hand, because if it happens, all the bridges will collapse and you’ll have to walk out of the city.”
First of all, I work on a bridge, so if it collapses, walking out of the city will probably be the least of my worries. Second, all the bridges around here have been retrofitted to withstand fairly powerful quakes. And third, if all the bridges are down, where, exactly, do you plan to walk?
I think one of the things I’ll have to get used to in this part of the world is the underlying fact that nature can kick your ass any time it wants to. I mean, in Florida we had hurricanes, but there’s plenty of warning for those. I suppose there was potential for a rogue tsunami or something. But here you know an earthquake is going to happen. You just don’t know when. And when it does, all you can do is stop, drop, and cover, and hope you survive to use your emergency supplies.
It’s a weird concept that the ground beneath your feet, which you have always counted on to be solid, can move and even liquify in extreme cases. That’s got to play with your head. I wonder how I’ll react.
And I hate the idea that when the time comes my dogs will have to fend for themselves. They’ll be terrified and confused. But there’s nothing I’ll be able to do about that until the earth goes back to sleep. At least temporarily.
[Image credit: news.bbc.co.uk]
The View from a Drawbridge 
Make sure the dogs have plenty of water, in some sort of non-easily-spillable container, and that nothing can fall on their shelter. The water is more crucial than food, so I imagine you have some bottles of that around for yourself, and are working on the other aspects of emergency preparedness.
I’ve been thru more than 2 dozen of the things myself, and it does get one’s attention!
I’ll have to figure out the water thing for them. That’s a good point. But they’ve got the run of the house when I’m not home, so they could be anywhere. That’s the scary part.
Don’t be afraid. I grew up there and heard that every year of my life. Just note the safe points of whatever structure you’re in, have a little water and canned food stockpiled, and brace for the inevitable fact that it might or might not happen. 😉
Also regarding pets – they are much better at preparing for disasters than we are. All you can really do there is hope for the best. I’m still living on the ring of fire with a geriatric cat, so I’m pretty much in the same boat.
My biggest fear is it hits at work and I can’t get to them for days.
Thanks Kat.
Get to know your neighbors and make an agreement to look in on each others household / look after pets in the event of. It will be tough because Seattlelites are not terribly “neighborly,” but if you can build that kind of relationship it can give you some peace of mind.
Also, it probably won’t happen for 120 more years anyway. 😉
Fingers crossed. I have yet to even SEE any neighbors. It is a really quiet neighborhood. If cars didn’t switch position now and then I’d think I had the whole block to myself. But I’ll make the effort.