It’s alright she won’t go in, she’s too intelligent. There’s no way she’ll go in, she’s far too sensible. OMG she’s gone in. These thoughts went through my head just as we watched Millie, our intelligent collie jump into the torrential stream to retrieve her ball that was bobbing around enticingly in a whirlpool, where the once placid stream, now raging torrent, went over a waterfall.
For some reason I was reminded of my canoeing days. I can’t say my whole life flashed before me but this one incident did. I was taking my certificate in ‘teaching’ special education kids how to canoe. The process of me becoming qualified to do so was an adventure in itself. Part of the adventure was being instructed how to canoe over a weir. I think it was on the River Ure, near Ripon.
The words of the tutor came back to me. Keep the canoe straight because if you go over sideways and capsize, which you will, you will be trapped in the vortex at the bottom of the weir and you will drown. A bit like, in principle, the bright orange ball that Millie our collie was originally attempting to retrieve. The difference being the ball was floating and we would not have
Millie’s plans had changed and she was now trying to avoid being swept away by the torrent. She was intelligent enough to realise she had made an error of judgement and was looking to me to help her out of the perilous situation she had placed herself in.
Trapped between the vortex and the torrent downstream she was in trouble. Without further thought I knew I had to get her. But there was a problem. The bank was steep and slippy and I couldn’t get down to her. I grabbed a branch and prayed it didn’t break. It broke, causing me to fall on my already injured hip and hence, from there, into the stream with her.
She was wearing her collar – hurray. I couldn’t get my gloved fingers under the collar to pull her out – boo. In the end I heaved her bodily out of the water. Job done, well not quite because now I had to get out the water. Not easy when your wellies are full of water. However, with some effort, I scrambled out – obviously otherwise I would not be writing this retirement blog – with a helping hand from Mrs Summerhouse.
The least she could do since it was her bloody foot that kicked the ball into the water in the first place. Not her brightest or best moment, I thought. She did retrieve the ball further downstream when it became stuck in a benign, small whirlpool. Am I forgiven now, she asked? I looked down at my drenched clothing and my wellies full of water and I thought, well, not quite.
So mostly all good, but it took me back several years to the last time I had to enter water to save a puppy. This was the other dog, Archie. He fell, completely unaided, from the tow-path into the Leeds and Liverpool canal. I jumped in to save him only to find that the water, near the lock gates, was considerably deeper than I had imagined, had I imagined, which I didn’t. Read the story here. Basically I couldn’t get out.
This time he stood on the bank observing the life or death struggle going on below him with something akin to boredom. For goodness sake only an idiot would fall in and not be able to get out. Hmm.
This last time was not the only dog-related mishap I’ve experienced of late. I mentioned a few weeks ago a couple of falls I’ve experienced on the ice while walking the doggies. One was spectacular but reasonably un-life threatening. I fell down a slope and injured my hip (the same one as above). The second (which was actually the first) was less spectacular but could have been serious. I slipped on an icy path and fell straight back on the back of my head. I think had I not been wearing my woolly hat I may well have knocked myself out. As I lay there on my back seeing the proverbial stars Millie ran up to me. That’s nice I thought she’s concerned.
Then she dropped the ball on my chest and stood there looking down at me seeming to say, come on you’re not really injured, let’s play. I have to say to be fair to her the second time when I ended up at the bottom of the slope she came down to where I was sticking out of the undergrowth and stood looking at me with some akin to concern or perhaps it was pity. What a silly old prick you are. Didn’t you learn anything from your first fall? Apparently not a lot.
Anyway so far this winter, that’s about it, a couple of minor falls but then I guess we haven’t had the whole of the winter yet. Better take extra care and hope that the rest of the party do the same. I haven’t broken anything which I believe people do but I can definitely tell you the injuries take a long time to heal.
Incidentally, in case you’re wondering why, in a retirement blog ostensibly about dogs, the photo at the top should be of ducks. Well, the answer is that it was so wet on that day that Millie and I fell in the water, that even the ducks wanted to keep out of the water and so were sitting on top of the rocks. Very sensible. At that point in the walk I did not quite realise just how sensible.