Thank God it wasn’t a Sasquatch, but did they really forget the bolts?

Around 4:35am, okay, exactly at 4:35am, Monty was downstairs wildly whining, barking, and throwing himself against the patio doors.

I didn’t want to wake up, because then I wouldn’t get back to sleep, but I was afraid he was going to throw himself through the window.

I peaked out the front window to see if the deer were back on the lawn, but I couldn’t see any.

So then I peeked out the back window to see if there was some sort of bear, sasquatch, or other terrifying creature in the back yard, but that seemed all clear too.

So I curled back into my cocoon.

But then I started dreaming.

I dreamt that Monty threw himself against the front door so hard that he pushed the door outwards, the drywall buckled in in the front hall, and the house started splitting in half along its middle and the hardwood floor cracked apart.

I dreamt that I was standing with one foot on either side of the middle of the house and the floor was weak and there was a growing gap between the two sides!

So I had to call on Jeff to get some bolts to rebolt the house together. Our house is a manufactured home, so the middle walls are bolted together in the joists in the basement. I dreamt that they must have forgot to bolt the two sides of our house together and with all of Monty throwing himself against the front door, that now our house was splitting in half.

So then I was coming home from town, telling someone about the bolts we needed, but it was winter and I was wearing snowshoes and it was going to be a long walk.

And then I woke up.

I checked out the house this morning and it’s all good. The compost bin was knocked over on the porch, likely by a raccoon and not a sasquatch, but it didn’t open so there was no slop to shovel back up.

Whew.