Spain update 08 august 2025
Friday, the 8th of August 2025
While Tasch, Ines, and Yannick are preparing for the "death march" they will embark on together this evening for the benefit of GINB, we are in Spain paying Las Nieves invoices worth €2,136 for the purchase of sunshades and hoses. Dirk has been taking photos, and aside from the unused plot of land next to the refuge where the crops were burned and the burned-out, ancient car wreck that had been parked in front of the gate for years, there is no other visible damage. Fortunately, our greatest concern, the dogs, is all fine. The fact that GINB is paying is a given that will be kept secret so as not to "hinder" the flow of donations in Spain, despite the many fundraising efforts GINB staff and adopters have organized for the dogs and the shelter. Late in the afternoon, the contractor sends a cautious cost estimate for the work to be carried out on Casa Belgica. The cost is estimated at a minimum of €40,000 to €45,000!!! It was a complete shock! I could not believe it, and I read and reread the offer with Dirk, wondering how we were going to survive. Despite the fact that Yannick, after the abandonment of Tasch (35 km!!) and Ines (50 km!!), survives the death march (100 km!!!) with flying colors and walks to the very end, with his husband/personal trainer at his side, accompanying him for the last few hundred meters, I cannot put aside my mountain of worries, despite my pride and admiration for his achievement. For days, hours, and nights, I rack my brain about what happened and what to do next. Worry, stress, and anxiety about the future, which I ultimately pay for with huge full of stress-related shortness of breath from inhaling too much fire smoke, and painful sleepless nights where every joint in my body is bombarded by heavy artillery, full of osteoarthritis attacks, keeping me in bed until noon for a few days, much to my annoyance and frustration. Painful joints are causing me trouble with my balance, making it difficult to walk, and my deplorable back is making it almost impossible to do anything. Not being able to write earlier is what irritates me the most, because my updates must be up to date; I owe it to those who are bothered to read them. Regardless, I am stubbornly resisting the discomfort, pain, and limitations this brings, doing my best to stay on my feet. At Dirk's insistence, who is getting fed up with me constantly ignoring and minimizing everything and threatening to go to the clinic, I must listen a little more to my body, which is whispering in my ear that it is exhausted and needs rest... He might be right...
Tuesday, the 12th of August 2025
A few days later, on Tuesday, the 12th of August, three weeks after the fire, we were severely hit by a heat storm in the late afternoon, with temperatures exceeding 40 degrees Celsius. Unusually strong gusts of wind blow over us, blowing everything that was not secured and spreading a suffocating burning smell. This did not help my mood, as I was terrified that Calypo would burn again. Nearby Madrid, 15 to 20 km from us, had large, inextinguishable fires that had already burned down several villages. The images on TV left nothing to the imagination: houses on fire and desperate people with nothing left. However, to our horror, we were once again confronted with apocalyptic conditions. At the back, the expensive rented fence that was supposed to protect us from prying eyes and thieves was blown away like a piece of paper, and the awning next to the house flew off.
Meanwhile, the groaning and creaking trees are bent almost double, battered by the unleashed gust of wind that tugs and pulls at everything it can find. It feels like a witches' cauldron. Trying to film is almost pointless because the flying sand and soot stinging my eyes makes it almost impossible to see anything. Dirk is short-handed, and the dogs are running in all directions in fright. Chaos that, to my horror, reminds me of the 17th of July. When the wind finally eases, the damage to what remains of the hedges is incalculable. Mountains of dead leaves, masses of blown-down branches, and piles of soot and sand lie scattered across the entire property. Even the water in the pool and the fountain are covered in masses of rubbish. It is despondent. When Dirk comes back that evening, after about twenty trips to the garden waste container, to say it is starting to rain, my prediction comes true. Because of the dammed joint pain in my hands and wrists I told Dirk yesterday that rain was coming because I could feel it in my hands… “It cannot be,” he replied, “no rain is predicted.” So, you see, you cannot always rely on weather forecasts, but unfortunately you can on arthritis… While it rains heavily for a couple of hours, to our delight, we see during the late news on TV Flanders that in the parking lot of Xanadu, where we were supposed to be doing our grocery shopping today, ten cars have burned out. That is why that pungent burning smell has been hanging around since this afternoon, we say simultaneously. The images of the meter-high flames are overwhelming! When we go grocery shopping the next day, the ten burned-out car wrecks, demarcated by a tape line and security guards, are still smoldering.
Friday, the 15th, Saturday, the 16th, Sunday the 17th, Monday the 18th of August 2025
Even though today is the Assumption of Our Lady, a much-celebrated feast day in Spain, Rafa is coming to help Dirk remove the fences between us and our neighbor on the left. He has been away for a month now but has given us “carte blanche” because the wall being built is also in his favor. It is a job for powerhouses, and they start at 10:00h. Not only two fences must be removed, ours and our neighbors, but the heavy curbs and the rest of the hedges also must be removed to make way for the wall's foundation. I can only think of our dogs, whose property will be halved. Once everything is gone, the path to the clinic will have to be closed off, otherwise they will have free access to the neighbors. Until now, they could only look inside, and as mentioned, there was a lot of barking back and forth at the "neighborhood dogs," which they had only heard until a few weeks ago but could also see after the fire. A very nerve-wracking situation for all parties, which will hopefully be resolved after today.
Poor Hyppolythe, who is still recovering both physically and mentally, will be terribly upset again. It is a shame because he is making progress. He even wags his tail for a few seconds when I serve him dinner on the couch in the evening. He responds to his name and spends his life where he feels safest, behind or on the sofa. In the morning and afternoon, he goes outside with his dog family, a ritual he is already familiar with, that is, if nothing unusual happens to disrupt it. Poor, poor dog with his eyes fixed on the distance. But he has time; he gets as much time as he needs to stop being afraid of people, or the vacuum cleaner that is used frequently. He is no longer afraid of TV, so he is making progress because he now and then even dared to look at the screen.
In any case, when I see the burnt iron door at the back of the clinic and think how incredibly hot it must have been inside as he hid under the iron stairs with his recently amputated leg, terrified, I tear up. Poor, poor dog. He has not yet come to terms with his horrific life, the years of starvation, the abuse, and the mutilation, and then he comes to us, his leg is amputated, and he ends up in a scorching clinic during a devastating fire, surviving. You cannot explain it to a human being, let alone to a brutalized and mutilated animal that has been the victim of his tormentors for years. They should be burning in hell, not their defenseless victim. But he has time, lots of time, and no more pain, and when he limps behind me in the garden in the evening, while Dirk vacuums for the 20th time, I feel like a queen and think, it will be okay, he is home, he can stay here for the rest of his life, his worries are over. You might think that life story is a bit exaggerated... NO, I can assure you of that from experience. The two men toil and sweat until they have broken down the fences all the way to the stairs, only to have to stop again tomorrow due to the heat of over 40 degrees Celsius and the sheer effort. They are both black as soot and soaking wet with sweat. Especially the two liters of water and six cans of cola they each drank, which are leaking back out…
The next day, Saturday the 16th of August, they start again at 10:00h and follow the same scenario as yesterday. They toil and pull and chop and drag and drink like cows until the other half of the hedge and stones are gone and they cannot take any more. At 15:00h, they stopped for the same reason as yesterday. They are exhausted and overheated because it is already over 40 degrees Celsius in the shade, what must it be like in the sun?
On Sunday, the 17th of August, they will begin the final challenging work at 10:00h. The last section of the hedge up to the gate will remain standing for now because the contractor starts tomorrow, and for the time being, they will not have any fencing. As soon as the wall begins, the fencing will gradually be released to cordon off the last section. So, they will dig holes to pour concrete and install posts. At 14:00h, everything is ready for tomorrow and they will stop. They are exhausted and soaking wet with sweat again because it is still 40°C plus, but they made it. Everything is ready for the contractor and company, and they have saved a lot of money by doing the preparations themselves. Respect!
On Monday, the 18th of August, at 7:00h, amidst the loud, protesting barking of the dogs, led by Titaba and Loulou, a large container is placed next to the gate. An even larger truck with a crane on top, both driven by a woman, dumps masses of stone, rebar, and cement into the ravine beyond. Around 8:00h , the first workers and the "patron" arrive, and soon, as usual, I hear the contractor, from the depths of his vocal cords, uttering a high-pitched, hoarse, unintelligible Spanish to Dirk, which the poor listener tries to understand. Blah blah blah, we remember Mr. Jonathan from the renovations of Casa Belgica, so...
The blah blah has started, but for how long? A passageway is being created for the workers, separated from the dogs, because a few of the men are afraid of them, which cannot be said of the dogs. In any case, both parties have a clear view of each other, see each other coming and going, and during the work at the back, they also see each other. Our dogs will not know where to look first and bark. We spare Hypolythe all the fuss. I take him inside, and he can listen to what is happening from the safety of his sofa, even watch a bit later, though. At 12:00h, the "Boss" leaves for another site. The workers stay thanks to the cloudy sky and the fact that it is even starting to rain a little, cooling down to 16:00h!
Thursday, the 21st of August 2025
On Tuesday, the 19th of August, four or five men finally started the work. Meanwhile, thousands of kilos of stones are piled up on the street, on the sidewalk, and even at the neighbors' houses, brought in by wheelbarrow because the truck with the oversized pallets could not get into the driveway. Since then, there has been drilling, hammering, chopping, shouting, and screaming as the men try to dig out the deep-rooted, blackened, gnarled branches with all their might and a lot of noise to make way for the wall's foundation. It is driving me crazy; what was once our garden has turned into a witches' cauldron. This is why the dogs feel compelled to react to the strange men and especially the noise they make with indignant/furious barking, which will hopefully diminish as they get used to it. Meanwhile, both outside and inside the house, we eat kilos of dust that seeps in through every window and crack. A situation that evaluates my nerves, and who knows for how long. It is driving me crazy. An almost unbearable situation that I do not know how long I can endure. Courage…
I will keep you updated with utter despair.
Sincerely,
Mireille
