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Boonie Tails

By Grace and Aria Keilbach

Thanks for your leash donations…

The following story is from Aria:

I’ve tried to write this newsletter probably ten times now. Each time, I find myself overwhelmed, stuck, or starting over. If you’ve been paying attention, the last week in the CNMI has been horrific, and distilling that into a quick article hasn't been easy. I want to do justice to the destruction everyone here has faced and tell our story, which is just one of thousands, while limiting the "woe is me" moments. There are others who experienced far worse. I encourage you to look into Typhoon Sinlaku and how it has affected the Marianas. Look at the pictures, click the links, hear the stories, and if there is any way you can help, please do.

The buzz before a storm is always unnerving. You can feel the anxious energy in the air. Yet, the weather is often perfect; 80 degrees, clear skies, beautiful. It’s a true calm that lulls you into a false reality where everything is okay. Surely if a Category 5+ typhoon (the same thing as a hurricane, just a different name) were nearing, it wouldn't be such a warm, spring day. Despite the deceptive weather, as soon as the news breaks, people are on the move. Gas station lines stretch for miles, everyone rushes for drinking water and nonperishables, and all hands are on deck boarding up windows and shoving towels beneath doors.

Thanks to today’s technology, we usually get a heads-up when a storm is developing. But Mother Nature does not always cooperate with predictability. It was only the middle of April, well before typhoon season officially begins, but this storm was on everyone’s radar. Typhoon Sinlaku was originally set to hit our neighbor, Guam. They are close enough that we would get some rain and wind, but we expected minimal damage if she stuck to her course.

At the time, there were two types of people. The first (and smarter) group prepared as usual, just in case Mother Nature decided to turn a few degrees in a different direction. The second group, whether out of denial or lack of concern, was adamant that we had nothing to worry about. I’ll let you guess which one I was, and which one my boyfriend, Kaden, was.

He grudgingly obliged my anxiety-induced prep, cleaning out storage rooms so the dogs would be safe and moving valuables, all while muttering about how much work it would be to move it all back once the storm missed us. Then came the worst "I told you so" in history: the next update confirmed Sinlaku was now a Super Typhoon and had changed course to hit Saipan and Tinian directly.

You don't realize how many tiny gaps make up a house's foundation until the air is blowing so hard it forces its way through every single one. It creates a cacophony. At its best, it’s a constant howling so loud you can’t hear a person screaming right next to you. At its worst, it’s a high-pitched shriek that sets your nervous system on fire. And then there is the eerie middle ground, physics at work as air whistles through gaps at just the right speed to produce musical notes. In total contrast to the screaming wind, it sounded like a flutist was standing just outside, trying his best to spread joy but producing the ghostliest song you’ve ever heard.

It is always jarring when the island goes dark. As the sun sets with no power anywhere, the darkness leaves no distinction between this tiny speck of land and the thousands of miles of pitch-black ocean surrounding us. We had candles and flashlights, watching our phone batteries tick down and dreading the moment we’d lose our last connection to the rest of the world. The dogs were fed and tucked in, anxiously awaiting a potty break that wouldn't come. As the hours passed, they grew concerned, pleading with their eyes. I don’t know how many times I said, "It’s okay, you can go potty here, I promise."

Twenty-eight dogs on one floor turned into a literal "shit show" quickly, but there was no alternative. I imagined letting them out for a second only for Mort to be swept off his feet into the jungle, or Lady to be spooked by debris slamming into the house and bolting into the dark. So the doors stayed closed, the dogs stayed confused, and we cleaned up many, many messes. With the dogs downstairs and the cats and puppies tucked into their rooms, Kaden and I tried to find a place to wait. We didn't have a single room without windows, but we were assured the double-panes had survived Super Typhoon Yutu in 2018. With the eye still hours away, we settled down to do a puzzle by candlelight around 6:30 PM.

As we were puzzling, our living room window started sounding... unsound. Kaden got up to reassure me again that these were storm-safe windows. He had just enough time to walk up to the glass, knock on it, and give me two thumbs up before the entire frame blew off the wall and into him. Suddenly, the hurricane wasn't just outside; it was in our living room. The roaring wind engulfed us. Our puzzle pieces swirled like a mini-tornado, splattering against the walls and ceiling. The sudden pressure change sucked the locked door to the cat room clean off its hinges. After checking that Kaden was okay (to his credit, the glass never broke, the frame just failed), I frantically hunted for the cats before they were sucked out of the house. I snatched them up and shoved them into a crate in a safer room.

A storm raging inside puts things in perspective fast. I’m the type of person people call a "hoarder", I don’t like to waste napkins, and I keep cords we haven't used in years "just in case." But there is no arguing with Mother Nature. As she swept through the room, drenching everything in salt water, it was easy to just say, "Well, that’s all gone." Material things truly didn't matter. We rushed downstairs to see how far the damage reached.

If you’ve ever experienced a window blowing out during a storm, you know the immediate consequence: the doors. Air streaming in from one source needs to relieve the pressure, and it will break its way out of the nearest weak point. For us, that was the glass front door. The panels were straining, pulling inches away from the wall and slamming back into the frame. It was 7:30 PM. Sinlaku wasn't set to officially hit until 3:30 AM. Kaden used all his strength to hold the door closed, but I knew he couldn't win a direct "man vs. storm" fight for eight more hours. Luckily, running a dog rescue means there are donated leashes scattered everywhere. I grabbed every slip lead I could find, chained them together, and tied the door handle to our piano across the room.

It worked—until Kaden let go. The next gust sent the piano, the heaviest item in our home, careening across the room like a box of feathers. Kaden resumed his post, one hand on the rope and one holding the wall for dear life. While he held the line, I crawled across the room, shoving our heavy coffee table inch by inch across the slick, flooded floor until we managed to wedge the table and piano together against the corner walls. They held. We scrambled to our bedroom to hunker down with the cats, a few dogs, and the only alcohol left in the house. It was going to be a long night.

Knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do but ride it out brings a strange mix of helplessness and forced peace. But it is also terrifying. We waited as the storm keyed up. Our phones had no service, zero way to contact anyone. The wind howled, the ceiling creaked, and everything threatened to give out. At one point, we made another mad dash downstairs because the leashes had shifted. My hands were raw and exhausted from holding the tension while Kaden retied the knots. As the hours passed, the sounds of destruction outside grew so loud we eventually crawled under our bed frame for protection. Every bang of metal on metal and every crack of a snapping tree felt like a jolt to the system. By the time the wind finally slowed to a safe level the next day, we rushed outside to let the dogs out. They were ecstatic! Their joy was a cruel juxtaposition to the background; the lush jungle surrounding our home had been flattened.

Days later, we would learn that Sinlaku had slowed to a devastating 3 mph, creeping over Saipan for over 48 hours. Eventually, we surveyed the full devastation. The thick, green jungles, my favorite part of Saipan, were gone. Regal trees with trunks thicker than several people could link arms around were snapped in half or yanked from the earth. A jungle that was once so dense you needed a machete to travel a few feet was now bare enough to see through to the other side of the island. When nature collides with civilization like that, it leaves an apocalyptic wake. Cars were tossed like crumpled paper. Steel storm shutters were peeled off and wrapped around trees like tin foil. I do not know a single person on the island who didn't have windows blown out or flooding.

Looking at the debris, the downed power lines, and the wrecked houses, I felt paralyzed. But this community did not. There is no room for panic when you have to survive. Before we even left our house the next morning, our neighbors were already chainsawing their way down our driveway to free us. People were waist-deep in water clearing drains. Little kids were helping their families drag debris out of their homes.

We’ve been quiet online because I have no cell service and need to conserve gas. But also, it feels wrong to post anything "aesthetic" after this. It feels wrong to focus on our own needs when so many are struggling more. Everything is different now, from the static on the car radio to the massive holes where roads once were. But it has been amazing to see the community come together. People are lining up for eight hours for drinking water. Rescue flights are arriving with donations from other islands who know our pain. Thousands of dollars have been raised by people who call the CNMI home.

There is so much to be rebuilt, but this island is capable, Marianas Strong. I could write about this for weeks, but I will leave you with a conversation I overheard at the first grocery store to reopen: "How’s your home?" "Oh, the roof is gone, mostly destroyed... just time to remodel better, though!".

How to help

Almost two weeks after the storm and the majority of people still do not have access to power or running water. Hundreds of people have lost everything and federal aid has yet to officially roll out. Relief efforts are being lead by private organizations, individuals, and non-profits, meaning that donations are still greatly needed to support these efforts. If you are able, please consider donating to this GoFundMe organized by our friend and Saipan Humane co-founder, Lauren Cabrera. All donations directly support humanitarian aid for families like this who otherwise would have not received help.

This note found by volunteers distributing aid via the funds from the GoFundMe is one of many. Many families and other vulnerable members of the community such as the elderly or sick have been left stranded in their homes with no way to get help. Your donations are providing life saving care and resources to those who need it most, thank you.

Boots on the ground

Although federal assistance has been limited by red tape and prioritizing infrastructure restoration versus direct aid, organizations such as Samaritan’s Purse, Red Cross, World Central Kitchen, and many local organizations have stepped up to fill the gap. Additionally, the ASPCA and Humane World For Animals already have teams on the ground working to provide veterinary care and other animal resources such as dog food. It has been incredible to see so many people and organizations from near and far working to do what they can to help.

Despite the horrific destruction that took place on U.S. soil, this story is not being covered by any major news networks. We are working to change that! Do you have any connections with anyone in local, state or national news? Newspaper, radio, TV, anything works! Share this story and help us connect with them! Please feel free to share our email, [email protected], with anyone who may be interested in reporting on this extremely important and under-covered event. Or, send us contact information of anyone you think we should reach out to with this story.

In less important news

As we work to support our community in anyway we can, sharing anything else has not been important or appropriate. However, this is just the beginning of a very long journey and we still have other dog related things to share too! Additionally, sharing our lives and all things Boonie is our source of income rain or shine. We will continue to prioritize typhoon relief efforts while balancing other content. We appreciate your patience and understanding. As always, thank you for your support.

In less important (but very exciting) news, we have recently partnered with Dr. Harvey's to share with you our new favorite dog food! I want to start this off by saying a fed dog is the best kind of dog. This is not a “mom shaming” post for kibble. However, if you are looking to explore other options, we could not recommend Dr. Harvey’s more!

Conveniently packed in only a 5 lbs small bag, this complete and balanced food comes to you freeze dried, meaning it is not only light weight but easy to store and travel with which is my favorite thing about it. I could not be more excited to get rid of the giant tub of dog food in my kitchen or have a large dog food bag’s worth of space in the back of our Subaru for road trips to come.

When we got our first bag, my initial reaction was, “thanks for the $80 sample size” as I had no idea that this small amount would make so much food (about 22 meals), all you need to do is add hot water! Tequila has sensitive skin so we have been feeding all three of our girls the limited ingredient sensitive skin and stomach formula. ‘Boonie Breakfast’ and ‘Dog Dinner’ have always been the best times of the day in our house but now they are even better thanks to Dr. Harvey's. Click the link to shop our favorites (we also love the dental chews) and use code BoonieBabies10 for 10% off your order!

No matter what the main dish is, spice up your ‘Boonie Breakfast’ and ‘Dog Dinner’ by shopping our favorite meal toppers from Native Pet! Native Pet offers a variety of supplements that can be added to any dog food. We are currently using their omega oil, the daily powdered supplement, and Tequila gets an allergy chew. I have been having so much fun “cooking” for the girls and they are obsessed with all the extra “treats” they’ve been getting. Use code BoonieBabies for 20% off your order! Treat your dog and support Boonie Babies by using our codes to shop!

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