Saving Calvin, the Dog in the Well

 

Once again, the tiny, terrific terrier duo was called upon to save a dog, and this time I can honestly say I couldn’t have done it without Pocket. 

    I was lying in the backyard getting some sun when I saw the Foley signal.  I yelled “To the Yorkie Poles,” and Pocket joined me as two of my minions, the Stavinsky brothers, natives of Warsaw, and terrible dog parents, dragged us in a rickshaw to the site where the prayer was issued. 

    We looked around and didn’t see a dog in need, just two standing by a hole staring downward. I checked my IPaw and it said the dog, Calvin, was praying for salvation after falling down a well.  We flew inside it, and sure enough, we found the 12-year-old Golden Retriever desperately treading water twenty feet below the ground.

    This is where working as a duo paid off.  Calvin was in desperate circumstances.  He was growing tired and needed encouragement.  But, more imperative was getting him help.  If I had stayed with Calvin, the rescue would not occur, but he would have become weary and drown if I left him alone.  Thankfully, Pocket was with me, and she could stay with the dog while I got help. 

    Usually, I could wait until nightfall and drop into a dream to tell the parents where their missing dog was, but everyone was wide awake, and by nightfall and dream time,  it would be too late.  They were working in the yard.  It was impossible to get their attention; I had to get Calvin’s siblings, Ava and Aubrey, two purebred miniature poodles, to stand by the hole and bark like they never had before. Being naturally chatty, the girls began perfectly barking and got their parents' attention.  The duo was somehow surprised that their aged, half-blind dog had fallen into a large open hole on their property.

    Pocket stayed with Calvin, encouraging him to swim.  He continued to say that he wanted to rest for a moment, but the dog was not buoyant enough to stay afloat on his own, and Pocket kept telling him just one more minute than he could rest.  Pocket yelled to me that Calvin didn’t have too much longer.  

    We had to communicate to the confused parents to call 9-11.  Dogs cannot speak, but we can bark in short bursts and make it sound like a phrase.  I asked both girls to bark “9-11.”  It only took the dim-witted parents a few minutes to recognize it and call.

    Pocket knew Calvin was failing. She remembered she had a treat in her ear she had saved for later.  She got it out and then flew over Calvin, with the treat just out of reach.  Pretty clever for a second sister.  Still, even wanting the treat, Calvin had minutes left before we would be greeting him at the Bridge. 

    The emergency responders arrived.  Pocket kept telling Calvin one more minute.  After ten, she was losing faith as Calvin’s eyes were closing, and he was barely staying afloat.  Just before he went under, a man repelled down, grabbed Calvin then pulled him to safety.

Once we knew Calvin was safe and his stupid parents would cover the hole, we went home. The pocket was very excited about the save.  It was her first one where the subject was so close to passing.  She sat at the end of my bed, nervously talking about it.  Finally, tired and wanting to go to sleep, I asked Pocket to settle down.  She did but still fidgeted and kept me awake. 

And that is how I ended up playing ball with her in the middle of the night.  And she still doesn’t bring it back.