Rescue (Part Two)

Rescue (Part Two)

Part Two: My poor, scared dog

I stood on one side of the long ditch and gazed at my poor, scared dog and he stood on the other side of the ditch and gazed back at me. It was getting colder as time passed. I decided not to panic. I figured that if I waited a bit, he would just swim back across to where I was waiting for him. He certainly knew how to swim. I had no doubt about that. So I waited and watched him. I talked to him very gently, cajoling him; I even tried totally ignoring him for a while thinking that he might just decide to swim back to get my attention. Nothing happened. He just stood there shivering.

I turned around and looked about, mentally taking a survey of the area where I had parked the car. We were a fair distance from White Rock and the freeway was still a long way away from the service road. Every once in a while, I could hear a vehicle going by and soon the vehicles that were passing on the freeway, were visible by their headlights. There was no traffic at all on the service road. Not even one car or truck came down road where the car was parked.

Evening was falling only too fast, and as it became darker, I knew that if I left, there would be no way that I would find that spot again. I might not even find Butch. What if I left and he decided to run further down the other side of the ditch? I could not just leave some kind of a marker, and expect him to wait there by it, while I went for help. My first instinct had been to go for help, but I was not about to leave my dog there by himself, even if I had to spend the night there with him. I was really not prepared to do that but would have done it if necessary.

Inwardly, I was extremely angry with myself for having been so dumb, as to put him in the water. In retrospect, I realized that I could have just washed him beside the ditch, but of course it was too late for that. In the grayness of the evening, the water had looked fresh enough for him to just go in for a quick swim. The whole problem would have been solved, if he had just gone swimming a moment or two, and then had come back out, as I expected he would.

I looked to the left and the ditch just seemed to continue forever. There was no end to it. In the other direction, it was the same thing. The ditch ran right along the side of the service road.

While the water had seemed to be fresh, in my hand, it was actually kind of brownish, probably from the peat moss in the area. Behind the ditch were tall evergreen trees, looming larger and larger, as the evening got darker and darker. The fog was beginning to roll in from the ocean.

The ditch was about twelve to fifteen feet across, where I had put the dog into the water. Most of the ditch appeared to be about the same width. I looked at it, wondering if maybe I should swim across it to get my poor, frightened dog. I did not have the heart to leave Butch. I could not just walk away from him or leave him totally stranded. Pondering what I could do, I went back and sat in the car. I started it up and put on some heat. I could still hear the dog yelping in the background, even with the car running.

Now, it was almost dark and I knew for certain that Butch had absolutely no intention of swimming back across the ditch. I had no choice. I knew that I would have to go to the other side of the ditch and get him. I got out of the car and opened the trunk to see what I might use as rescue apparatus. I didn't really have anything much to use, no lights and not even a bit of rope, but I did find a big green ski jacket that I quickly put on for warmth. I had been wearing jeans, a sweat shirt and runners all day. I must confess, I was pretty grubby and could have used a bath too.

As I tested the temperature of the water again, I knew that it was too cold for me to go in, without wearing something heavier. I knew that if I jumped into that water in just a sweat shirt and jeans, I would be very cold. I had thought that it was the temperature of the water that had shocked and frightened the dog. I made the decision to go and get him, whether the water was cold or not.

I decided to head into the water, wearing the ski jacket and then to take it off, when I got over to the other side. My plan was to wrap it around Butch and to let him warm up and then to swim back with him. I knew that I might have to carry him and I was determined to bring him safely back, whether I actually had to carry him or not.

I kept the car running with the heater turned on. I put the headlights on too, as I knew that if anyone did come down the road and saw an empty car with its headlights on, they would probably stop. No one but no one came down the service road. I was hoping that I might be lucky and maybe my car would be spotted by a police officer, who could then call in and send out an emergency rescue team.

Mustering all of the courage that I had in me, I plunged into the water. I had no idea how deep it was, or what I might encounter. It was cold, but not unnervingly cold for me. I quickly made a decision to head across to the other side of the ditch to where Butch was still standing. He had not moved from the spot where he had climbed up the bank on the other side of the ditch.

As I started to swim, I really began to feel the cold. I am basically a relatively good swimmer, so I was not worried about that. The cold did not frighten me either; nor did the darkness. I knew it was not very far across that ditch, at least not in terms of actual distance. The water was too deep to touch bottom so I did have to swim. As I approached the other side of the ditch and began to feel the bottom of the ditch, I was stunned. I could feel some rotting fence posts in the water. Some of them had fallen over. Tying them together, was barb wire. I realized that what had frightened Butch so much, was the barb wire that was in the ditch. Obviously, at some point in time there had been a fence where the ditch had been dug.

Luckily, I had put on the ski jacket, even though I had wondered whether I should or not. I was a bit concerned about it getting wet and bogging me down, but I figured as a last resort, if I needed to do so, I could always pull it off. (That could have been a challenge!)

As quickly as I could, in spite of its weight, I waded through the last couple of feet of murky brown water, the shallow part, now cast with dark shadows from the trees. I was quite relieved that I had actually managed to get to the other side of the ditch without further incident. As I climbed up the slippery bank, I had my face licked by my extremely grateful dog.

I grabbed Butch as quickly as I could and headed right back into the water, carrying him in my arms. By then, the water had started to really penetrate the ski jacket. He just kept licking my face. The water still felt really cold.