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A strange thing about hurricanes is that the day before one hits, everything becomes eerie, quiet. You don’t hear any insects chirping or birds singing. Just a creepy silence. It’s like nature senses that something’s coming, and leaves. Maybe Rocky had felt something strange 1 in the air and decided to get out of Dodge too, 2 I don’t know, but Lizzie was beside herself. We looked high and low — I even went into the woods and called him repeatedly — and nothing. No sign of Rocky. But time was running short and Lizzie 3 had to go. So she 4 drove off with a heavy heart, and I went home to hunker down. I’ll spare you the details of the storm because they’re depressing as hell and I’d rather not 5 relive them. Suffice it to say that after the storm and the flooding, I ended up in Lafayette, Louisiana, about three hours outside of New Orleans, and stayed with a lovely family that hosted me for over six weeks. But of course, I watched the news every day and saw first hand the devastation visited on the city by the flooding that followed the hurricane. Then one day, the mayor of New Orleans went on tv and announced that business owners could start returning to the city. And since I was the general manager of the hotel, the owners authorized me to return in their place since they didn’t live in Louisiana.