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LUCY GOES CAMPING

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LUCY GOES CAMPING

 

There were thin gray clouds in the sky, and a cool breeze wiped up small waves on Crotch Lake, the day my buddy Doug and I got a small taste of what those on the Titanic suffered.  Spring was late that year, and the frigid water numbed our bare feet as we loaded the canoe and set off for our campsite.

 

For the last 10 years Doug and I have camped every spring and fall with about 20 other men and youngsters. We canoe into a quiet lake with a weekend supply of food and beverages, and while some of the campers fish, others catch up on fishing stories.

 

This year Doug brought two young lads, and I had my black lab Lucy. We had too much gear for one trip, so after dropping the boys and the dog at the site with other campers, Doug and I headed back for another load. About half way across, I looked back and saw my dog Lucy swimming along just behind the canoe.

 

Normally Lucy is cautious of the water even though she's a Labrador Retriever, and I've never seen her go further than 50 feet from shore, chasing a stick. So when I saw her out in the middle of the lake, behind us, I decided to bring her into the boat.

 

Now the first rule of canoeing is always communicate clearly with your partner when you intend to do something different'. Too bad I didn't remember it.

 

Lucy came along side the boat and put her paws up on the gunnel. Doug had leaned away from our side, to balance us, and didn't expecting my next move. I grabbed the scruff of Lucy's neck and heaved her in.  She came into the boat a lot easier than I thought and we all ended up on the same side of the canoe-which rolled it over throwing us all into the water.

 

The dog was trapped under the boat, and while I dove under and dragged her out, Doug retrieved my Personal Flotation Device, which I'd been kneeling on. Now a little cautionary note about PFD's for those who've never been in my predicament. While easy to get into on shore, a PFD resists every effort to put it on in the water. You can get your arms in, but every time you pull it down at the back to hook the straps it pops up forcing you to tip forward and pushing your face into the water. The next thing I discovered about PFD's is it's almost impossible to swim in one-so trying to get ashore seemed futile.

 

I could feel my legs and arms starting to go numb from the cold water. Doug floated with me, beside the overturned canoe, and I could see his lips were blue, and his teeth were chattering.

 

Fortunately Doug had a whistle so we stayed with the boat and signaled to those ashore, that we needed help. After what seemed like hours, two of our pals, Peter and Nick arrived. They hauled our canoe across their boat, forming an X, then flipped ours over and put it back in the water. Then Doug and I took turns getting between the two boats and carefully sliding over the side into our own.

 

Our wet shirts stuck to our bodies as our muscles began to unwind. Just then a shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, massaging us with heat. A light mist of steam began to rise from our clothes, and in the distance by the campsite, I saw my weary dog Lucy drag herself out of the water and flop exhausted on the rocks.

 

What did I learn that day while I floated in the cold water reviewing the sins of my life. Always wear my PFD, communicate clearly with my canoe partner, and remember, the damn dog can swim better than I can, any day of the week.

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