Millie and Me

Raking leaves was on the agenda for this morning, since the cottonwood didn't finish dropping its foliage until December, and since I still don't have a job. Still.

I raked. Then I noticed it: silence. Millie had stayed alongside until she pulled one of her amazing sneak-away routines and left me alone with the leaves. I had to run down the street after her, hollering for her to come, Millie! And she did. As we trotted back to the rake, I asked her if she'd like to go to the neighbor's to see her best dog friends Cornbread and Okra. (Yup, the neighbor's dogs are named Cornbread and Okra. I do live in Texas, y'all.)

Millie's tail wagged as I pushed open the neighbor's picket fence gate and eased it open so Millie could join the other dogs. Playing and jumping and running ensued. Sweet sounds. I went back to raking leaves. Millie, I noticed, came back to the gate and stared at me. Then she began whining. Play with your friends and enjoy the sunshine, I called to her. She barked.

I'd just finished the leaves and sat down on the steps with a cup of tea when I heard Millie whining again. Then... silence. Then the most horrible dog noise I'd ever heard - a snarl and a shriek in one. My eyes darted back to that gate and my hands went slack. The cup of tea hit the steps. I was up immediately, running. Millie's head was wedged between two pickets. She was hanging from the gate.

I screamed. There was spit flying and Millie was still struggling and I tried to pull the pickets apart - or off! - but I couldn't. I screamed louder, hoping - I don't know - that someone would show up with the jaws of life or an axe or a tub of Vaseline or - something. Someone! Help! I tried to pull Millie's head up but it was stuck. I tried to force it back but it was stuck. I tried to pull on the right picket. Then the left. Nothing. And Millie got quiet. I climbed over the gate and tried to pick up her body... would it help her breathe?... but I worried it might break her neck. Would it break her neck? I didn't know. I screamed.

Millie was silent, hanging from that blasted gate. I kept screaming. It echoed in my ears, that awful noise. And I heard myself, hysterical, yelling, Someone? God? GOD?! HELP! HELP! HELP US! HELLLLP US!"

I grabbed Millie again, and planting my left foot on the gate, I pulled on up on that collar as hard as I could. Millie's tail moved and then her head. I quit worrying whether it would hurt her further and just... pulled. And then we were both on the ground and the screaming had stopped. And Millie lay there a moment and then - a breath. Then another. Sweet sounds. I bent over her and those chocolate brown eyes looked back into mine. She wagged her tail.

Think she's going to be okay. She's sleeping now. I'm still shaking, but at least my screaming has stopped. I'm sure all that racket interrupted an otherwise peaceful morning in heaven.

I'm sure my guardian angel is thrilled I have a dog. Talk about overtime and extra assignments.

The LORD is with me; He is my helper.

-Psalm 118:7