Rescued

               I had his picture.  Ginger hair and large brown eyes.  The rescuer brought him over.  It was love at first sight when those eyes gazed into mine and he kissed me on the cheek.  He had been on drugs for a year because of fly-catching episodes.  Therefore, he slept the first year of his life.  He did not know his name.  That is very sad - a dog who does not know that his name is Sir Harley.
               My Cavalier King Charles Spaniel had flown from Knutsford, England to California to Florida and now Pasadena, Maryland.  For the first year of his life, even though he slept most of it away, he certainly got around.  He was scared though and preferred his crate for protection.  My main job was to wean him off the phenobarbital so he would move, enjoy life, and not be so fat.  This would be a slow process to make sure he could handle the change.
               It was summer and my children and grandchildren had come to visit and enjoy the creek.  We have a fenced in yard so I was not worried about Sir Harley getting loose.  He was usually hiding in his crate or guarding a bag or purse for some strange reason thinking that this must be his job.
               The gate was left opened.  I glimpsed Sir Harley timidly approaching the exit and wandering through.  I followed, calling him.  Since he still did not know his name, he kept going and headed for the creek where all the action was taking place.  He had never been near water so I was not concerned.  That, however, did not deter Sir Harley.  He went straight for the beach walked into the water and swam.  He did not hesitate at all.  I stood there amazed.  Off he swam, straight for the middle of the creek.  I discerned what was drawing him.  Geese.  A gaggle of geese had landed in the creek and he was swimming for them.
               The geese spying Sir Harley started moving as he approached.  Then the Canadian Geese realized he was one dog and they numbered twenty.  Turning around they started swimming towards him.  Sir Harley reversed his direction and started swimming away with the geese chasing him towards the Chesapeake Bay. I, in the meantime, ran from pier to pier calling “Sir Harley” to no avail.  He did not know his name and he was swimming back to England.
               A Dena came to the rescue.  My neighbor seeing Sir Harley’s plight jumped into his motor boat and started after the geese and Sir Harley. I kept calling.  Sir Harley kept swimming.  The geese kept chasing.  The motor boat was behind them.  At last, my neighbor caught up to Sir Harley, reached over, and pulled him aboard.  Rescued.  Sir Harley was saved.
              
              
Next blog – Sir Harley repays the favor