Sunday, January 25, 2009

Dreaming of Rescue: A Parable

Yes. I have become one of those fleece wrapped, wiry-haired, middle-aged women who shoots snapshot after snapshot of...wait for it...her dog. Because she's so puuurrrtty. Took her bouldering this weekend. Although nimble on her feet, Mia's skittish about the crashing surf, especially when there might be sure-death-plummeting off sea stacks involved. But we do crazy things for the ones we love. So she bucked up. And followed me straight up and over. It probably helped that I had beef liver treats in my pocket. Works on the Ranger every time.



And then she got stuck. Looked towards land, solid ground. Dreaming of rescue. Thirsty. Exhausted. Wishing she were home, curled up on a warm rug licking her Happy Place. The tide was coming in. Our base camp was now under water, so we needed to shimmy down the back side which was a sheer wall of volcanic rock. Sharp as a razor's edge. Easy for my two feet. A different kind of negotiation for four paws and a shifting center of gravity.

She wouldn't follow. Just looked at me with a furrow of sinking abandonment. Such bitter astonishment. How did I get here, she thought. Now what, she asked.


So I did for her what so many others have done for me. I scrambled to the bottom, took a swig of beer, ate some jerky then found another route back up. With less terrifying cups for footholds. Not so vertical. Not so vertigo. Come on, girl, come on. Yes you can.

And of course, she could.

3 comments:

Erin said...

Oh my darling Holly, you have well and truly become a dog person.

Kylita said...

She's a beautiful girl, Holly Jo. Has come a long way since the 1st photo you sent me when I noticed her collar was the same as our Mandy Girl's, only green instead of blue. I know it's not the same, but the other day Tuffy was showing off for "daddy" when he flew up the cedars close to the house and flew onto the roof only to find 6-8" of snow and ice and freaked. Jeff had to get the ladder and the dumb cat kept roaming all over the roof, afraid of sliding off, but too cool to let "daddy" grab him, so Jeff had to bring out the big guns of Pounce treats and coaxed him to the edge where he grabbed him. The little shithead! I know it's not the same, but I wanted to share.
Love you, love your dog ;oD
KLH xo

Anonymous said...

When I was 12, I loved horses. I didn't just want a horse. I wanted to BE a horse. So my friend Rosie and I would run around in the woods with ropes in our mouths for bridles, make corrals with sticks and stand around and snort and paw the ground. Now, I just want to be my dog, Dulce. What a life, what a love, what a world!

Aussiegirl (for Australian shepherd)