Always something...

This morning I took Tibu to the vet's to get spayed. I was as nervous as a mom taking her first child to Kindergarten. Poor Tibu was manic from not eating, reminding me of the children I taught with ADHD before lunchtime.

As I was getting ready to go, I started noticing that there were helicopters above the neighborhood. This happens sometimes. I swear one time I actually heard gunshots and then the helicopters, but Chris didn't believe me. The truth is, I have a hard time distinguishing gunshots from firecrackers.

The helicopters kept circling around and around. There was obviously more than one, and the droning got louder and louder until I realized this was not normal helicopter activity. There is a train track behind the houses across the street from us, and I began to assume the helicopters were circling over the track. SEPTA (the Philly mass transit system) workers have been on strike since Tuesday at 3 a.m., so any number of things could have been happening at the Fern Rock train station a few blocks away.

I left the house with Tibu in her crate, trembling and quiet from fear and fasting, and I began to drive the several blocks to the veterinarian's on Broad St. As I turned out of our little streets, I looked to the left and saw, under the rail bridge, four fire engines, several police cars and a Fire Department "Special Operations" vehicle. I wasn't sure what a special operations division of the Fire Dept. would do, but assume it meant something serious was going on. The helicopters circled like vultures over the tracks.

When I got to the Broad St. Animal Hospital, the friendly vet's assistant was chatting away on the phone about how someone was struck and killed by the train this morning.

Meanwhile, the striking SEPTA workers had set up what looked like a tailgating party at the station.