During the evacuation, my husband and I made the heart-breaking choice of leaving our 7 cats behind.

We live off of Chef Hwy. and Downman Rd. The house is over 50 years old. It had never flooded. Reasoning that we wouldn't this time, I put food and water on the counter, said a prayer, packed up our two dogs and left.

We evacuated to Shreveport, LA. While there, our worst nightmare came true.

The grief of loosing my childhood home in Chalmette was almost unbearable.

We still had no idea where some of our friends were and all we could do was watch it on TV. I was afraid for our futures.

The pain of leaving behind my cats haunted me. I tried the Humane Society, Noah's Wish. Everyone I could think of.

After two weeks, we hadn't heard anything. My husband and I decided to check the shelter in Gonzales in the hopes that they were picked up and we were weren't contacted yet.

My father fixed his van for us, taking out the seat and putting in a cage. I was unable to sleep the night before fearing what we would or wouldn't find.

After a six hour drive to Gonzales, the search was fruitless. I was more depressed then ever. I asked my husband, "What now?" He looked me in the eye and said "We are going to New Orleans to get our animals back."

We noticed other animal rescue vans and saw that they were marked with washable paint identifying themselves as animal rescuers.

We made calls to our family and friends. They recommended that we do the same and to purchase sodas and chewing gum to bribe the police & soldiers with if necessary.

We headed to the nearest open Wal-Mart located in LaPlace, LA. Our purchases included pet food, sodas, an ice-chest, ice, gum, WD-40, a crowbar, rope, and window paint.

We painted the side and back windows in the parking lot. After this was done, we drove towards New Orleans. At a checkpoint before the Bonnet Carre Spillway, we were redirected through Slidell.

We crossed the Causeway and my eyes started to tear as I realized that the images on TV wasn't a fantasy.

People's lives were spilled all over the place. Toys, books, boats, clothes, furniture and other objects were pushed to the sides of the interstate.

It was the middle of the day and there was absolutely nobody else in sight.

We crossed through a burm into New Orleans via Jefferson Hwy.

My husband, a prior service United States Marine who served in the first Gulf Conflict commented on how it was eerily reminiscent of crossing the burm in Kuwait, never imagining it would be into his hometown.

On Claiborne Ave., we were stopped by a 101st Airborne SSGT. He didn't question us. He simply said, "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't see the writing on the vehicle. Proceed."

After that, we saw the Superdome and the surrounding buildings from the I-10. I was in shock. It felt like the end of the world.

We finally made it to our home. I was dreading what we would find. Our house seemed ok for the most part. We opened the door and realized that we had flooded. My mind was flashing images of dead cats. We heard mewing and one of our cats revealed himself. To our great relief, all of our cats were unharmed. Just hungry and upset.

We pulled them out, put them into the van and left. As we were turning the corner, an MP Hummer was heading our way. They didn't stop us and we managed to leave the city without incident.

I credit my husband's prior service in a conflict for giving us the confidence to undertake what he called an infiltration mission.