Imagine my astonishment when I looked up and saw Cheyenne paddling hard with a really intense look in her eyes. From past experience I emptied my pockets before getting involved but at least I did have the presence of mind to take her portrait in the water before I reached down and unclipped her Extenda-leash which was getting tangled rapidly in the mangrove roots.
I grabbed the scruff of her neck with one hand and put the other under her armpit. Her front leg was stiff as a steel rod as she dug her claws into the coral rock in an effort to lever herself out and she was not happy when I bent her leg, pulled her close and hauled 85 pounds of soaking wet Labrador back to dry land. The place where she is happiest.
She repaid my laughter at her predicament by standing between me and the contents of my pocket lying on the ground nearby and rapidly shook off a gallon of muddy weedy canal water over everything in sight. Including my latest edition of Motorcyclist wherein I had yet to read Big Piner Joe Gresh's take on one more cruising motorcycle. I guess I deserved it but I have so far pulled Cheyenne out of the Blue Hole, a muddy mosquito canal she got stuck in, and my neighbor Phil, the one friendly guy on my street, has fished her out of the canal when she edged too far on the dock wondering where our boat had gone. I hope the fourth time is the charm but I'm not holding my breath. She smells great now after a comprehensive shower she submitted too more meekly than I have ever previously seen.
8 comments:
Mr Conchscooter:
Lucky you were there to rescue her. What if she had wandered off alone, out of sight ?
bob
Riding the Wet Coast
She would have drowned.Life is full of risks.
Happily Cheyenne doesn't wander. She enjoys being at home waiting to be entertained by me. We have no fences around our house and she has a dog door on the porch to come and go as she pleases. Mostly she sleeps on one of her beds indoors or on the recliner on the porch.
I'm thinkin' that dog has a thing for you...
Chuck on Fleming.
Dear Conchscooter:
You have a bike without a tach, a boat with a weak engine, and a labrador that can't swim.
A friend of mine had a dog that loved swimming in the family pool... Yet the dog required assistance to get out of the pool. One day, the cleaning people let the dog into the yard. The dog jumped into the pool. And there was no one there to help him out. Things came to a bad end.
I'm delighted that you were right there at the absolute right time. It never occurred to me the leash could get tangled in the mangroves.
It's always something, huh?
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
Dear Conch,
I guess one would like to think that living at your latitude would give folks a more friendly disposition, just because of the weather at least. Alas, my best friend on my street just sold his house so I'm left surrounded by half wits, passing acquaintances, and your usual morons. Some of those morons apparently consider themselves to be, self-coined "originals" because they were here before anyone else. One of the passers-by have taken that and we now call them "Werthers", as in the candy, "Werthers Originals"....you had to be there. I immaturely flip the bird at the morons as they pass by when they aren't looking, silly I know, but I get a big kick out of it. People I've tried to be friendly with in the past but who have proven themselves unworthy of those attempts. A friend once cynically made the comment that "people are morons until they prove otherwise". He was onto something there, and it didn't bother him the least this belief. Part of my thoughts about others must have a lot to do with my attitudes of course but I feel better thinking it's more them than me.
Cheers, almost spring like here in Southern Ontario.
Jeff: Some people come here to kick back and others come here to be themselves and thery gave orders Up North so they give orders here too. Conchs sometimes spend a lot of effort looking back and when they do they regret what has changed and that tends to make people bitter.
I always try to smile and or wave at my neighbors. part of not giving a shit is remember ing that the madness and anger is theirs not mine.
Dear Jack: Cheyenne and i are deeplly in lover, rathe rhow you feel about me. Chuck knows.
I was a little worried about your pooch there for a moment. Shew!
The great benefit was that she was needy and in my face and begging to be scratched all day.
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