My husband, Mockingbird;
One of my best friends, Duffy;
Last New Year's Day, Duffy, Needlenose, Mockingbird and I were at our annual celebration on the banks of Bull Run. It was night, we had started a campfire against the frigid air, and my idiot dog went after a beaver and into the river. She is a dog that studiously avoids immersion.
The 8 or 10 foot bank was steep, and she couldn't get out. She was hanging on a vine under the overhanging trunk of a poplar, and we couldn't reach her. I was not going to lose her, so I slid down as far as I could under that tree and tried for her collar. With one arm grabbing the tree, and the other one stretched out, she was just out of reach. I was going to have to go get her, and started to step out over the water, praying that the inky stream had some sort of ledge beneath the surface. Not one to take such luck for granted, I said to those above, "I'm going in."
As I stepped toward a soaking, I felt Duffy's hand latched onto my waistband. The extra support allowed me to reach and grab the collar, and drag Spirit around the tree and up the bank, where somehow she was taken the rest of the way. If I had gone in, Duffy would likely have gone in too, and I will never forget that.
When I come back, if I can't be a raven, I wanna be ApplePie, sorta.
I am blessed.
Killdeer