Some are born to greatness. Some rise to greatness. And some just want to get their dog out of the swimming pool. I am the latter.
Yesterday afternoon, our 8-year-old came to me with the most insistent request, “Mommy, do you hear that?”
Thus, I found myself not seated at my dining table comfortably tucking into a spicy meatball sub, but instead, standing in the kitchen with my ear pressed to the glass straining to hear “that” over the din of our active family (whatever “that” might be).
No, actually I did not hear “that.”
Then, just as I was sure the child was hallucinating (this time anyway), I did hear “that.” The faintest whining sound. Almost imperceptible. I still thought I must’ve imagined it.
At the front door, the German shepherd, Ace, came like a flash. Our emergency back-up dog, Jagger, was nowhere to be found. This, in and of itself, is nothing to worry about.
Jagger is 4 feet wide and approximately 2 inches tall. He’s sort of ottoman-shaped. Definitely not built for speed. Still, he was taking an awfully long time, even for Jagger.
The only thing he hates more than exercise is the cold and it was an awfully blustery, frigid day. Odd.
Do you know that feeling you get? That sixth sense right before some outlandish, but absolutely certain, thing pops into your mind? My senses said: the pool.
Danger. My house has never seemed so enormous as in the eternity it took to run from the front door to the back and confirm what I somehow already knew.
Our dog was floating in our frigid, ice-encrusted pool. Not struggling. Not swimming. He was just
STAY INFORMED. SIGN UP!
Up-to-date agriculture news in your inbox!