Instinctively I called out for Janet to grab the dogs. "Janet. Jan---." No Janet.
"Mam, have you done this yet?" the technician asked.
"No," I told him. "Just a minute."
I unhooked the pumps, ran downstairs with Sasha in my arms, and called for the dogs.
"Mam do you want to call back?"
I was nearly a half hour into this call, and didn't want to start over. "Just hang on," I said. "I needed to step away from the computer for a minute."
"You can call back."
"No thanks, I'll be in front of the computer in a minute." Sasha seemed happy with all of the bouncing around. The dogs raced up the stairs after me, seeking shelter from the dreaded thunder. I jiggled Sasha while pushing the appropriate keys and even dared to rehook the pumps. The dogs nestled into the bed, Sasha drifted off, the pump stopped. Perhaps as Janet always said, all will be well.
But then I learned the hard drive had, in fact, crashed and could not be recovered and I jerked from the news. With another boom outside, the dogs stirred, Sasha awakened with a shriek followed by disappointed cries, and I bumped into the pumped milk which spilled across the nightstand and onto the floor.