price12

TWO DOGS

J.Price

On a sunny, warm day, my husband, Jim, and I head toward town to eat at our favorite restaurant. We come up to a four lane concrete bridge. Ahead, in the right lane, a car is going slower than the posted thirty-five mph. There is no sidewalk on our side, instead there is a concrete barrier.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“We’ll get closer and find out.” Jim replies.

When I move into the left lane to pass the crawling vehicle, we see the reason why it’s going so slowly. “Oh, my gosh, look!” I gasp.

“Whoa, I didn’t expect that,” Jim says, staring at the two cavorting pups directly in front of the car next to us. They appear so happy, free and playful, going in circles, nipping at each other, mouths open, as if laughing. What a happy sight. With their long hair and weighing about 50 pounds each, they are obviously buddies.

I cut my speed to match that of the white sedan.

My husband leans out the window and motions to the driver behind us, who slows down, understanding something is going on.

In this rural area, the same as at home, we watch out for and protect all living things.

As we approach the third quarter of the bridge, the light orange dog dashes to the railing, puts his front paws on the rim, looks briefly at his buddy, and jumps over to what I estimate to be a dangerous twenty foot drop to the Quilceda Creek. My heart beats loud in my ears as I watch the other dog, the black one with white dabs look both ways, then put his two front paws up onto the railing and bound over. I see a large fallen tree, visible at the beginning of the curving bridge, near the area where the dog leaped over, and that adds to my worry.

I look at the man in the car next to me and yell, “I’m going to pull over around that group of buildings and see if they are alright.”

He shakes his head and yells, “Yes, go ahead.” He has a concerned frown, and waves me on ahead. “Good luck,” he yells as I go past him.

“You bet.” my husband answers.

I drive to the end of the bridge, turn into a parking lot and move close to the edge of the cliff that borders the creek. The trees are thick and brush thicker. I leave the car in a run, ahead of my husband, heading toward the general area where they landed. When I can see beyond the thick growth, I notice it is high tide, but the berry bushes prevent me from going down to search closer. Part of the large downed tree has limbs sprouting in many directions. That concerns me, even more than the height of their fall. I yell, frantically searching for the dogs, all the while hoping they are unhurt.

Jim is waiting at the car. “Wow, that was something,” he says as he reaches out to hug me.

I get into the car and slump against the steering wheel. I don’t know what to do next, so I pray.

My honey tells me, “You can’t drive on the freeway until you calm down. Let’s go get a cup of coffee, until you are alright.”

I agree, “ O.K. I don’t know what to do. Should I call the SPCA, PETA, or the dogcatcher? I don’t know if that would do any good, as I can’t see them. I’m not sure where they are now. But, I didn’t hear anything. That’s a good sign.”

“Yes, it is. Draw on that and you may calm yourself a bit.” My hubby pats my back.

We drive a few blocks to a popular fast food place. My coffee gets cold. I’m still concerned and feel useless. “I want that playful pair to be safe.”

“Me too.” My husband squeezes my hand before he leaves to wait for me at our car while I hit the rest room.

I’m sure the dogs belong to somebody. They were healthy and I think they had collars, but I am not certain. I try to remember. As I leave the restroom, and cross the café, my mind wanders, imagining where the dogs might have gone or whom they belong to. I am clueless how to find the owners. We are several blocks away from the bridge and I hold little hope of ever seeing them again or knowing what happened to them.

But my prayers were answered. When I open the diner door, right in front of me are the two dogs. Yes, the same two dogs crazy enough to jump off the bridge. There they sit on the sidewalk, side by side, like salt and pepper shakers, and stare at me with curious big eyes and tilted heads. I can imagine they’re saying, “We’re here, don’t know why we’re here, we’re fine, gotta go now and play.” Then spring up simultaneously, with exuberance, and begin pushing each other with their noses. I laugh with relief and know they are fine. They give me a quick exchange of eye contact before running off side by side, still twirling about, playfully nipping each other, again oblivious to the world around them. Certainly unaware what forces brought them to the diner door at just the right time.

In front of the happy pair of canines, a man is getting out of a truck.
“Here, boys.” When he calls, the two dogs dash over to him, jump on him and lick his face, then hop into the truck. The man notices me watching and comes over saying, “Hello, I’m Jack Mayfield,” and offers his hand for me to shake. “I’ve been looking for my dogs for hours and noticed you looking at them.”

“Yes, I was really worried when I saw them jump off the bridge. I am Carole Johansen. Glad to meet you and happy you showed up.”

Jack tells me, “We are finishing up moving our things out of our old house and taking them to the new home a couple of miles away. These rascals disappeared before I was ready to leave. That worried me. Here we are just a block from the freeway and our house is the opposite direction. I don’t know why they came here. I am thankful they are safe.”

I feel relieved. “Me too,” I say.

“Thank you, they are like our kids, you know, a lot of trouble, but still family. I could see you were concerned.”

“Yes, I couldn’t shake the thought of them completely unaware of what was around them. They were cute playing together before bounding over the bridge. That was a crazy thing to do, jumping blindly over that barrier. Nearly scared the life out of me.”

“They are still young and impetuous. They play with our three boys.

We adore them. Thanks again, Carole.” He waves and goes to the truck where the two canine passengers wiggle their tails in anticipation of going home as they stare out the windows, getting dog drool all over them.

I know they are in good hands, and safe. I walk to our car feeling good.

Jim is standing next to our car, stunned, and asks, “Did I just see the same two dogs ……here?……Unbelievable.”

I add, “Yup, and now they are safely going home.”

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