Feeling Very Thankful

A recent Friday began badly and the morning only got worse. That morning I went to get my dog out of his crate and found poor Oli cowering in a corner. He had a horrible bout of diarrhea in the night and the evidence was everywhere: his pillow, the bars of his crate, the floor, the walls and Oli himself. I plopped Oli in the bathtub and washed off him off. Oli despises baths. He leapt from the tub and I chased him around the room with a shampoo bottle and then a towel. The bathroom quickly became another room in need of cleaning but at least Oli was cleansed. I moved on to his crate, scrubbing the bottom of it and attempting to clean the bars but it was proving difficult. I decided to carry the crate outside and power wash it with the garden hose. I opened the front door and hoisted the crate through the opening, the front door swinging wide. Like a ninja sprinting in stealth mode, Oli zip silently past me and outside. I abandoned the crate and raced after him, forgetting for a moment that I wasn’t wearing any shoes. Oli bounded down the street - past my neighbor sweeping his driveway. He dropped his broom and tried to corner Oli but my small white dog was having too much fun. I tried to lure him back home by tricking him into chasing me back to the house but Oli was wise to my game. He turned his heals to me and bounded up the street, then outside the neighborhood, then down the sidewalk along Trinity Drive, a main thorough fare in town, and then sprinted right down the middle of the road. 

There have been several times in my life where I have felt the stranglehold of panic and terror. A  scene of horror is in motion right before you but you yourself is completely immobile. I felt that watching Oli race down the middle of one of the busiest streets in Los Alamos. Like a banshee I screamed, NOOOOOOOOOO! But Oli, like so many other times, didn’t listen to me. I sprinted down the sidewalk after him and contemplated running into the street to get him. It would seem that this was all going to end in terrible tragedy. 

But it didn’t; thanks to everyone else around Oli and I that morning. All the cars coming down the road halted and slowed for my crazed dog. One passenger even opened his car door to try to get Oli. Then, a young woman who recently moved to my neighborhood, came out of her home to help me. She mimicked having treats and Oli became intrigued. After a few failed attempts my young neighbor stalled him long enough to be captured. I scooped him up and he lightly kissed my nose as if nothing any concern just happened. 

Needless to say my young neighbor is the true hero of this story with everyone on the road comes in close second. Getting Oli back in side my home, I felt such huge gratitude and admiration for everyone - the drivers, my awesome neighbor and really the whole town. I wanted to wrap them all up in a hug. 

With Oli safely secured, I got to work cleaning the mess up inside the house. My feet burned from running barefoot down sidewalks and over rocks, plus scrubbing away dog excrement is the very definition of foul but I didn’t care. Oli was safe and I basked in the glow of being lucky enough to live in a town filled with people willing to help out and save a dog.