Spain update 25 July 2025
Thursday, the 25th of July 2025
Today marks a week since Calypo Fado and its surroundings caught fire. It's mind-boggling to think back on how terrible it was to have to leave everything behind.
Since then, Dirk has not been idle. In just four days, he demolished the veranda, then dragged all the debris to a dumpster provided by the municipality for the affected residents, which, unfortunately, was located at the end of the street. He then removed the branches of the burned trees, shrubs, and hedges on both sides, so we now have an unobstructed view of the neighbors and vice versa. The reality is that dogs are staring at each other, and not only that, but there is also "communication" going on. So far, it has not been a problem, but of course, out of respect for the neighbors, it cannot stay this way. This also means no more dogs can be neutered at the clinic, knowing that their number sometimes reaches 30 per day and many more. So, there is only one solution, and that solution is to build a wall, because a hedge takes years to grow as tall as ours was. Regardless, the clinic was spared, but it was blackened by smoke and soot. The windows to the veranda have blown out from the heat, and the inside of the door is covered in blisters and melted paint. Only now can you see how intense the heat must have been and how much the poor dog who could not get away must have suffered. It is terrible, but it could have been worse. The clinic could have burned down with the dog inside; as we see now, it was a close call.
Next week, the contractor will be arriving, willing to help with the veranda reconstruction/rehabilitation, as that is work for specialists. Meanwhile, Dirk will continue removing everything he can. When he cannot go any further, he will shower blacker than the blackest miner, but neither soap nor water can handle the soot clinging to him. Work will also continue at the refuge; are they as black there as they are? As for us and our dogs, they have done better than we have and lie there watching the activity with rapt interest, sometimes helping to their owners' frustration, by grabbing any branches and dead leaves they can reach and grinding them between their teeth. They are overjoyed to be reunited and have resigned themselves to the fact that JJ Hyppolythe is staying, and meanwhile, to Astrid's great frustration, has been lying on her sofa for almost a week, and the last few days together with her new friend Joséphine. But we are together, and that is the most important thing, especially after being forced to flee, fearing losing almost everything, and experiencing firsthand what is the daily inhumane reality for many people in war zones, caused and perpetuated by power-hungry tyrants. We had more luck...
Saturday, the 26th of July 2025
Today, all the neighbors have called in family to help with the cleanup.
Dirk must do with me…that is, alone… Although, while the large trees behind the clinic I was so attached to are being sawn down and removed, the neighbors are helping to move them because there is a dumpster behind the vacant lot they can reach better than he can. I am going to stay with him for the first few hours to document the major changes for posterity. In over 20 years, we have barely seen our neighbors, their houses, or their gardens, let alone spoken to them in my case. After the fire, everything is suddenly different; we can see three gardens away and see where we are in relation to our surroundings. What is more, the fence around our property is poorly placed and could be moved back or forward by one meter behind and beside the clinic, so the veranda is getting bigger and the path to the front gate is getting wider. No problem for our neighbor, though, because he pointed out that the fence is not properly positioned and is to our disadvantage (inherited from the previous owners...). For the first time in twenty years, we are talking—well, I am, because he knows Dirk a little. Something has clearly changed; the shared shock and loss has brought the people of Avenida de Madrid closer together. To my surprise, they are showing solidarity because they are all in the same misery, and as the saying goes, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. How long it will take for everyone to get back behind their walls and fences is another matter... Around 18:00h, "Black Pete" Dirk calls it a day. He is unrecognizable and exhausted. You would be forgiven for less, so he wisely decides to ask Rafa to help tomorrow. Then, to the bathroom’s dismay, he goes to wash himself and shower...
Sunday, the 27th of July 2025
Rafa arrives at 10:00h. as agreed, and after taking stock, they get to work. The fence comes down, then the burnt and charred tree stumps and what remains of the old fence, whose weathered roots resemble ancient vines and have intertwined with the neighbor's, which does not make things any easier. Once that is partially done and the neighbors have helped remove it, they delve into the depths and start clearing the undergrowth, the burnt trees, ferns, bamboo, and the remaining overgrown bush that thrived behind the clinic and was the main cause of the veranda's flames. It will be a long, exhausting battle, which I will document as best I can. Not easy, considering I cannot keep my balance very well, and on the floor covered in melted plastic—the floor of what was once the porch where thousands of dogs recovered from their sterilizations—which is littered with power saws, hammers, tree saws, chisels, blackened and charred tree stumps, bottles of water, and towels for the men's sweat, etc.—I cannot even keep my balance, let alone film with one hand without a grip.
In the afternoon, I give up and tremble back upstairs where kilos of soot still await me in the house. Soot, even though I remove it every day, until my frustration elegantly descends again. It is called “Sisyphean" labor.
The dogs, who attentively follow the construction work at the clinic and its surroundings, occasionally remind us plaintively that they are eager to help, constantly poking their noses between the fences, also wait impatiently for me to go back "upstairs." They want to come inside because it is already 40 degrees Celsius... They are not warm, though, as the heat is successfully combated for the dogs' comfort with two parasols, two sunshades, two large awnings, and a professional fan that sprays water and creates a wonderful cool breeze on the terrace. Anyway, once it is their time, they are just like men...
At 16:00h, Dirk and Rafa also threw in the towel. When Rafa asks if he should return that evening, Dirk quickly says NO!! And then goes on to say that he is not taking a nap, only to start again a few hours later until 23:00h. After all, he is not Spanish... He thanks Rafa and concludes with "see you tomorrow." I quickly asked if Maria could come along to help me. The contractor who was supposed to come and take a look did not show up. He will be here Thursday.
Monday, the 28th of July, Tuesday, the 29th of July 2025
At 9:00h, Rafa and Maria arrived. Before joining Rafa, he, with Maria's assistance (I must forfeit because I cannot part with our dogs and always get sick), first removes the threads from Hypolythe's wound, then sprays silver spray on it to repel flies and applies a bandage. Once the men have started, I go downstairs too. Both are already well underway with the preparations. The biggest and most dangerous job of the day is demolishing the old veranda wall, then tearing out the floor, not to mention the rest. Despite the strong wind that blows the dust from drilling, hammering, and falling sections of wall in all directions, the dogs are on duty, and I venture to film the proceedings, which soon results in me looking as gray as the remains of the wall. Astrid sits in front of the iron door of what was once one of the entrances, watching me, and despite being enveloped in a cloud of grit and dust, she does not budge and does not take her eyes off me for a second.
When the other dogs slowly return and I am about to go back upstairs after filming, she walks to the other fence to wait for me, then cuddles up close, and we walk upstairs together. When I go back down an hour later to check, Hyppolythe follows me. I am quite startled because his bandage is halfway off his wound, and I am terrified of flies. Regardless, I am just in time to see the last piece of wall fall spectacularly. Then I rush back upstairs to fix Hyppolythe's bandage.
The men are still waiting for the container they ordered. As promised four times, they finally arrive and can start filling it. At 15:00h, they are both exhausted and stop. Dirk, as always, is as black as soot and gasps for breath. They will start again on Tuesday at 10:00h and fill the container with the remains of the recovery room—a huge chunk of our lives, so to speak. It really hurts; when I see what is left of what once was, I see the costs just keep rising. New walls, new recovery room, new air conditioning, new flooring, and then new supplies for the dogs' comforting, in short, new everything. As for the construction, that means weeks of workers, weeks of restless dogs, weeks of going in and out, weeks of dirt and more dirt, and lots of calls to the contractor asking where his workers are and if they are coming yet, because they do not speak a word. If they say we will arrive Monday at 9:00h, it is Wednesday at 11:00h, then they have breakfast an hour before starting, and at 16:00h they go to a local restaurant for an hour and a half to eat, leaving again at 18:00h or at least an hour later. Very nerve-wracking, Spanish, or mostly South American, workers who are not skilled craftsmen. Cleaning the clinic will not be much use, as the workers are using the restrooms there, so that speaks volumes. I really do not see it happening. Not to mention our money... Meanwhile, Rafa and Dirk continue without stopping to eat, and the sheer amount of dust they consume makes them drink even more. Luckily, it is just water and cola. At 14:30 they call it a day. After a snack, he falls asleep in front of the TV, which is broadcasting the women's "Tour de France."
Wednesday, the 30th of July 2025
At 10:00h, Rafa and Dirk rush back in and, with renewed energy, fill the container below the rim. That means with kilos and kilos of bricks, tiles, twisted iron, molten plastic, rubble, and dust—lots of dust, descending ladder after ladder. Hopefully, these are the last remnants of the fire that seem to have no end. But hope springs eternal, and we continue working with the courage of desperation, don't we? The contractor is expected at noon. It is closer to 13:00h when, after a phone call from Dirk, he arrives with one of his workmen and begins assessing the damage, which also seems to have no end. All the electrical cables and sockets, as well as the air conditioning units, need to be replaced. For the dogs' safety, a wall must be built all the way to the street because there are no fences, and new plantings, to my great regret, will take years to grow big and strong enough, and I do not have that much time left. Above all, a new recovery area needs to be built for the dogs, one with a non-slip floor because the previous one melted, one with larger windows and doors, one with a proper roof over their heads and sturdy walls and doors all around. It is never-ending because everything must be considered. It is unbelievable what is involved. Between the contractor's jokes, my head is spinning, and I think, "Am I almost 80 years old for this?" to embark on such a major undertaking, a project that will cost so much money? Probably, because so far there is no response from the insurance company. We will see. After the visit from the contractor and his team, we can expect his quote this week.
Tonight, or tomorrow, the first fences will be installed to keep out "burglars" from the "ravine" where the container is located. After their departure, Rafa and Dirk will continue cleaning up for another hour and then must stop due to the heat and exhaustion.
