FEMA was here

The dogs went into attack mode, breaking the serene late morning filled with chirping birds and Disney Channel.

"Yes, can I help you," I tried to bellow through a tiny crack of the front door, with a chorus of barks.

"I am **** from FEMA," he said.
"Let's see your ID please," I replied.

He held up his badge hanging from his neck.
The dogs headed out to the backyard.
2 steps across the threshold, he was stopped and I snapped a picture of Mr FEMA. My reason for the picture identification was explained to him; the insurance adjuster took 11 days while Mr FEMA appeared on-site within 48 hours of registration. Of course my over-cautious compulsion is reasonable.

Next on the agenda is paperwork, fortunately all necessary documents were prepared in a manila folder, alongside another marked "photographs". Mr. FEMA came across skeptical of my claim after his visual inspection of the first floor of the house. This is not the furnishing of a home in need of Federal assistance, may have been his thoughts.

The official tour of exhibit carnage. His presumption of the house based on above ground observations quickly changed. Evident from his astonished look, he is taken aback at the scene spread before him. Debris may have been removed, what remained obviously still carries the evidence. Judging from his expression, mutterings and ajar mouth, Mr FEMA is stunned.

"The hydrostatic pressure on this wall must have been horrific," he finally chirped.

All in all, this inspection was educational and complete.

Next, fill out all the paperwork in the mailbox.