Year of the Fire Horse

This past February 17 was Lunar New Year, transitioning from the Year of the Wood Snake to that of the Fire Horse. The Chinese Zodiac includes 12 animals and 5 elements. My mother turned 60 in 2025 which means that, for the first time since she was born, it was her animal-element combination. This should have brought great fortune, and things were going pretty well for her, until she got hit by a car, broke her leg, and got chased out of her home due to fire for the second time in a year and a half.

When I was young, maybe around ten, I had this book of Astrology which merged the Western and Eastern variants. In it, it said that the Year of the Fire Horse was considered to be the most intimidating of the 60 combinations. Apparently this was true to the point that people in China would avoid having children during this time, as those offspring would be fated either to greatness or destruction. While the Fire Horse isn't necessarily bad, it tends to evoke a sense of fear moreso than opportunity.

Considering the hardships that my family has undergone and the current state of the world, I would prefer a calm and boring year to a dynamic, high-energy one. 

Here is an article with some details on the fire that occured in my mother and brother's building:

https://www.ctvnews.ca/kitchener/article/suspicious-fire-set-in-kitchener-parking-garage-police/

In my last update, the incident was considered "not suspicious". However, since then the fire department has conducted an invesitgation and now the most likely cause is thought to be arson. The building is now conducting repairs and clearing out smoke. The damage was more advanced than their previous estimate, and so they're thinking it will be another three to four weeks before residents can move back in.

This building has operated in a much more thoughtful way than the place in Guelph did. They've provided hotel rooms to anyone that wasn't able to stay with friends of family. Now that things are looking to take a little longer than expected, they have upgrading those people to rooms with full kitchen facilities.

Apparently even though the apartments were not considered habitable by humans, they allowed people to keep their pets there. Although now they are saying that people need to find alternative sheltering options for them as they go through the units to clean them individually.

The building advertises itself as pet-friendly. When everyone evacuated, I saw many dogs and cats. I have to wonder what it looked like when they opened up the Social Room in a neighbouring building to shelter the tenants in the wake of the fire. It must have been a zoo in there. I have to imagine that the chances of some animals reacting poorly to each other was high.

Apparently all humans escaped the building in relatively good health. There were two injuries and one person was hospitalized, but is now fine. I wonder if all the pets were similarly fortunate. Articles have not mentioned this, unlike the fire in Guelph, where they did report on the two cat fatalities between the eight living there.

Since the incident, it has occurred to me that there was an additional layer of awkwardness to the situation which thankfully didn't manifest. You might remember that, a few years ago I facilitated de-escalation training to all the firefighters in Kitchener. The chances of them coming in while I was saving the cats, and needing to implement the same training I'd provided for them, on me now in a state of escalation, was non-zero.

It's tough because in neither incident were my mother or brother in any way at fault. They didn't install the air conditioner that exploded on the house in Guelph, and they didn't light the car on fire at their current location. This is gratifying on a moral level, but on the other side of things, it means that there's nothing really to learn and therefor, no way to prevent it from happening again. One might say that the same thing happening to them again is highly unlikely, but when lightning has already struck twice, it seems less improbable. Besides, if we're looking at my network as a whole, this is the third strike. I'll tell that story in a future post.

The first time, they were staying in a low-rent location that was independently owned and poorly maintained. But now they were living in a fairly professional location and it still happened. 

It's difficult to reconcile oneself with the fact that, every night when you fall asleep, you are relying on everyone choosing not to light your house on fire. Because anyone can do it, and there's nothing you can do to prepare. It's hard not to imagine how it would be more difficult to escort my mother with her still-faulty leg up a flight of stairs to get outside, and to evacuate four cats instead of just two. 

Fires Still Aren't Fun

The name of this post is a reference to one I did after the house in Guelph burned down, which itself was a reference to one titled "Floods aren't fun" when our basement apartment in Kitchener flooded. In my last update, I alluded to an event where a friend experienced a tragedy "worth being in the news". I'd meant for this update to be dedicated to that, and to use this title for it. However, yesterday something else, and closer to home has happened to earn it.

Happy Friday The 13th!

Just past midnight, I got a text from my brother saying they'd evacuated their apartment as the building's fire alarm had gone off. Them being so close, I sprinted out in my pyjamas to meet them. On the way, I saw the basement garage billowing black smoke, and when I caught up to them, they were standing in front of their lobby, billowing white.

(I should remind everyone at this point, that I'm going to be saying "my brother" and "my mother" a lot. My policy is to not use the individual names of humans on this blog. The one exception is Lee-Anne, based on her express request.)

When the alarm went off, neither of them thought it was a serious thing but felt obliged to follow instructions. Mom is still recovering from her broken leg, so my brother prioritised getting her out safely. But now that things had literally heated up, they were worried about the cats.

Firefighters were signalling people to move back, telling them that they shouldn't be breathing in the smoke. But their apartment is in the back of the building on the first floor, accessible at ground level. My brother and I decided to see if we could find our way there, to see at least if the smoke had made its way in.

There were onlookers but no firefighters. My brother wasn't exactly sure where their cat carriers were, so I ran back to our place and got one. It didn't have its grate in place, but in urgency I grabbed it and ran back, thinking I could put it together once I got back to the site. Unfortunately, I wound up fumbling with it and didn't manage to assemble it. So I abandoned the concept, jumped the railing, and went into the apartment.

The lights were out, so I turned on my phone's flashlight. The inside of the apartment wasn't as bad as the car garage or the lobby, but there was still a smell akin to incense. I found Castor in my brother's window. I grabbed him and told my brother to carry him to mine and Lee-Anne's place.

Pollux was a bit harder. I found him in my brother's closet. At first he seemed lethargic and I worried because in the house fire at Grange, one of the neighbour's cats had initially survived but later died due to smoke inhallation. He, like Castor, reacted to the smoke alarm as we passed under it. I had the impression that both of them had hidden from the noise instead of the smoke, which had unfortunately driven them into smokiest areas.

Holding him tight, I hopped the railing again and made our way to mine and Lee-Anne's place. 

I remember helping my brother and mother adopt Cassidy, and a WALES member do the same. Three years later, both those cats passed within a month of each other, both tragically young. I decided that I would never help another person with the adoption process. When my sister-in-law had barn cats and Lee-Anne felt they were fated to go family, I decided that I wasn't involved and wouldn't take any responsibility for their wellbeing.

Since then their house in Guelph burned down and we took them in. Now I found myself literally running into a burning building to save them.

They're both fine. The firefighters let people back into their apartments at 4:30 am, and they left the balcony door wide open for ventillation. If I'd left them, they would either have been exposed to the smoke an additional four hours, or they would have left the apartment to escape it. Generally, cats will find their way back home, but with the pain caused by the environment, there's no guarantee that they would have.

Mom was looking forward to the time that she would be recovered enough to visit us and see our cats. Well, it appears that necessity is the mother of invention, because we managed to get her down the stairs into our basement apartment.

They're still here. Despite letting everyone back in, the power was lost. Later, the building needed to evacuate the tenants again for repairs. They provided some hotel accomodations but there weren't enough for everybody and they encouraged those who could to stay with friends and family. Hopefully the fees associated with those accomodations incentivise them to resolve this quickly.

Mom's Progress

Mom has been improving steadily. I haven't reported all the stages of her recovery, but she's moved from using a wheelchair exclusively, to being okayed to put 50% pressure on her knee while using a walker. She had the staples in her leg removed, and now she doesn't even have the brace. This past week, she felt comfortable to return the wheelchair. The surgeon says that she no longer needs to book follow up appointments, and she's doing physio several times a week now. She says that she feels pretty confident that she'll be walking by Spring.

I need to make a confession. When I first wrote about this situation, I very loudly and confidently declared that I knew the person that hit my mom. As it turns out, I did not.

I still can't go into full details but I'd like to explain my misunderstanding. On the night that my mother was struck, I ran into two people that I know in the ER. When we received the police report, the person listed as responsible had the same first initial, and the same surname as the person I had seen that night.

I don't know anyone else with that last name! Even after I noticed, it was kind of easy to write off as a mistake from the report. A friend of mine had recently experienced a tragedy worthy of being in the news, and it got a bunch of details wrong. Same thing happened when the house in Guelph burned down. It's always a little distressing to see confirmedly incorrect reporting from supposedly trustworthy sources.

It would make more sense that something wrong happened in the reporting, then that a person with the same last name as the person I know, had hit my mom at the same time and place that the person I know was arriving at that location.

But the ages don't line up, and I've checked license plates which also don't match. I haven't had the heart to confront this person about whether or not there's a connection.

But I still kind of think there is. Another weird detail from that night is that the people I met don't live in the city, and there's a detail in the report that implies the person that hit my mom also doesn't live in the city.

I don't want to spread conspiracy theories but this is all too tantalizing! There are too many things coming together! I might just have to ask the person eventually. I almost can't handle the thought of never figuring it out